Negotiating a Settlement
by ShutUpAndPull
Summary: Picking up with our attorneys and love duo, Rick and Kate, following previous installments: "Objections Overruled" and "A Brief Recess." Here, we find the two moving forward in their relationship, taking on a challenging new project.. and also, once again, each other.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

He'd been watching her from across the room for the better part of twenty minutes, ducking and dodging the bodies of what he imagined surely had to be every other damn attorney in the state of Connecticut, the entire collection of which had-uncomfortably albeit impressively-managed to shoehorn itself into that hotel bar in Hartford right along with them that drizzly Friday night.

He could smell it in the polyester of some who muscled past in search of a fresh gin or a willing playmate for a romp in a room upstairs, the fusion of summer rain and desperation that oozed from their pores and their off-the-rack bests, and it amused him how distant their worlds truly were from the orbit of his own.

"I wouldn't expect to see someone like you in a dump like this." He heard the words, but like a gnat had buzzed past his ear, as little more than a nuisance he wished to swat away. "You're, like, famous or something," the woman giggled and with the grating pitch of it earned a sneer.

The only thing he cared about was her, the one seated alone at the bar surrounded by high-fives and braying laughs, and the attempt at his distraction had his jaw firmly clenched.

"Or something," he replied when silence failed, assuming his curtness and all the blanks his tone filled in would be enough to send her fluttering off to the next ear. It wasn't.

"You're pretty hot in those TV commercials. I never forward through them when they come on."

Her drink was a shade of science-fiction green and nearly empty, and it didn't require a host of clues to gather it wasn't her first. Christ, just a glance at it practically had him in need of an appointment with an optometrist to have his retinas examined for damage.

Blinking it away, he shot his eyes back toward the high chair at the end of the bar, but found it now occupied by another. She was gone. He'd looked away for seconds. It'd only been seconds.

"Where did she go?" he thought aloud, not worried but miffed he'd been drawn by the interference.

"I'm standing right here, law man. Maybe you should be looking for me. I promise I'll be no hassle at all."

Creeping up onto his toes, he left unacknowledged her tacky wink to his business persona's tagline as he struggled for a path of view around a cluster of twentysomethings exchanging horror stories about their professors from law school. It did him no good. He still couldn't spot her in the crowd.

"I've already found what I'm looking for," he said, and with making it all the way to the bar in one piece his mission set off and left her standing there flapping her wings.

The passage wasn't easy, nor did he reach his destination unscathed, but that mattered not. Hooking the besieged bartender's attention, he asked after the woman while dabbing away with a handful of cocktail napkins the cabernet his pinstriped Brioni had been splashed with along the way.

"Really? Look at this place, man," he got back with an expression as sour as the wedges of lemon the man's hands were busy slicing. "You think I have time for faces tonight?"

As impossible as it was to believe anyone could ever forget a face like hers, he hit him up for a Glenlivet XXV as amends for the bother, poured it back in two gulps, and slid him an extra twenty.

It was just as he was about to turn back into the room that he felt a hand at his lower back, and with it his eyes clamped shut, fearing what followed would be the unwanted ring of Miss Green Drink's piping giggle.

But it wasn't that at all.

"What the hell took you so long?" The warm breath tickled his ear. "You've been watching me for almost half an hour. I had to get up and walk so I didn't doze off sitting here waiting for you to make your move."

He wasn't surprised he'd been caught at it. He hadn't even tried to be subtle.

He pivoted on the heels of his loafers, dipped in close so he didn't have to raise his voice over the din. That and he yearned to inhale her fragrance, one more intoxicating than anything in the bottles lined up behind the bar.

"Maybe I was nervous. Your sort of beauty can be intimidating to a man, you know."

Unlike his swift work, she sipped from the bourbon in her glass, made love to it in her mouth, savored.

"And what sort of beauty would that be, exactly?"

"The sort that steals all the air from your lungs, which actually works out just fine, since it's already left you speechless." He cocked his head, traveled her with ravenous eyes. "I've seen you here before. You were at this conference last year. Same stilettos."

She grinned behind the rim of her glass. "So you either have a fine appreciation for French footwear or you're very creepy."

"Well, I don't happen to believe those two things are mutually exclusive, but I suppose I do believe I fall more into the former category. That is unless you prefer creepy. For some reason, I find myself standing here only wanting to please you."

In places he couldn't see and only she could feel, a profound twitch struck and rippled. "Just one reason, Mr… ?"

He offered his hand in formality, which she reciprocated. "Richard Castle. Rick. And so you know, it may be one, but it's a damn good one. Maybe I'll share it with you, if the right moment presents itself. In the meantime, can I buy you another or do you have to drive somewhere tonight? Safety first, as they say."

She swallowed what remained and handed over her glass, swiped with her tongue an errant droplet that clung to her lip. "Bourbon. Double. And I'm Kate."

"As Kate wishes," Rick said with a nod.

A dozen people passed when he nudged his way back up to the bar, but she let none move her from that spot, her focus fixed on him as his had been on her. She only hoped he wouldn't come around suddenly and catch the curl at the corners of her lips. His ego didn't need the boost. That was one of the first things she'd learned.

Even without the benefit of position, Kate could still see the blue of his stare, and she blushed with everything it already knew. She never fathomed such a connection, such desire for a man that it ached, even when he was but a few short steps out of reach. But there she was in its bullseye, and there was nowhere else she wanted to be.

He returned moments later with a drink in each hand and a scowl to go along with them. "I tried to buy our way into a couple of seats. That didn't seem to go over. Being called a jackass is never a positive thing, right? Cheers," he said and tapped her glass. "Honestly, there must be some fire law against having this many people in here. I can't-"

"I have a room upstairs," Kate interjected.

"Oh? A room you say?"

"I don't live around here. I had a feeling I wouldn't want to drive all the way home after a full day at this circus." She tipped back a sip. "Figured I'd probably be too worn out," she said with a tug of his lapel. "Come on. I can't hear myself think under this big top. Let's go upstairs, Rick."

Having managed to carve their way out, her hand pulling him in tow, they stood in wait at the elevator doors in the lobby for the car to descend from floors above.

"You seem fidgety, Rick. Are you fidgety? How many of those have you had?" she asked about the booze.

The elevator chimed its arrival and welcomed them. "Your chariot awaits. After you, please." He braced a palm against the track, a voice inside him screaming in hopes that no one else came along. He had no interest in sharing her, not for one floor, not for one second. When he stepped inside and the lobby disappeared from view, he released with relief the gulp of air he'd been holding captive.

"Nine," Kate told him, an instruction accompanied by the arch of a brow. Clearing her double, she set her glass up on the car's railing, reached around Rick's body for his and provoked a flinch. "Finish it." He did, without hesitation, and she placed the empty beside the other. "Definitely fidgety," she commented a second time, again to no reply.

Without exchanging a word, they made their way down the hallway toward room 922, where Kate stopped and handed Rick the key card for the door. "In this case soft and slow is better," she advised as he dangled the card above the slot, her suggestive counsel causing him to miss the opening entirely on the first go. "Getting it in first helps."

He cleared his throat around it, because it was all he could do, the puddle he'd become. He succeeded with his subsequent effort, pushed the door open and allowed her to pass. Kate stopped where the entranceway met the room, turned and angled her body against the wall, her eyes meeting his and lingering there, their mutual fixation less wish than demand.

And so Rick came for her, fast and hard, tearing off his wine-splattered jacket and discarding it along the way. Sliding his hands up underneath the impossible angles of her jaw, his fingers bunched in her hair, their possessiveness a mere hint of the hunger the rest of his body felt.

"This is the same room," he all but grunted before taking her mouth in a searing kiss, fingers drifting to her thigh and hitching it up around his. "How very sentimental of you, Counselor."

Kate bumped her hips forward, and a sigh infused with the most devilish of grins trickled from her parted lips. "I guess I'm just a softy. But… you're definitely not," she teased, his body's response to their union providing her the ammunition. Then she plunged for another taste.

"God I missed you. I wanted to turn around and fly back the minute I landed in Chicago."

He'd been gone for four days, out of town helping an old buddy from college with a post-divorce move and a celebration of both. He'd asked Kate to join him, and though he'd done so in earnest, he knew she'd never agree. Her law practice didn't run with a team of people to step in, and that was exactly as she wanted it.

"I missed you, too. I especially missed having my hands on you." She planted both on his chest, walked him backward to the side of the bed until he had no choice but to sit. "All those people in that bar…" As she spoke, she slowly began to unfasten the buttons of his shirt, one by titillating one. "I could only feel your eyes." Her fingers took a pause. "If I'd had to wait any longer for you to come get me, a guy at the bar made quite a tempting offer. I might've just said yes."

Rick's smirk went swiftly flat.

"Hey, I'm not all law, you know. I've thrown a punch or two in my time. What guy? What offer?"

Kate snickered at the notion, resumed her task, while he licked his wound from the slight. Pushing the shirt from his shoulders and down the length of his arms, she left a peck at the curve of his neck. "Apparently Hartford is quite the hot spot, and he was very eager to prove that to me tonight."

Rick flew off the bed like a fire had been lit beneath him, spun her until she dropped in his place. When he leaned in and pinned his hands at either side of her hips, she flopped backward, dragged him right along with her.

"I'm the only one who gets to do anything to you, Counselor, tonight or any other night. Got it?" He hiked up the hem of her cashmere so he could speckle the skin beneath with kisses. "Whoever the hell that jackass was, he has no idea how hot Hartford can be."

His tongue swiped along the ridge of the muscle that framed her torso. He still marveled at the architecture born of her routines and regimens, worshipped it. "The last time we were in this room together is going to be pretty difficult to top, though. What do you say? Think you're up for the challenge?"

"I'm no expert," Kate came back as she gripped his hair in a fist, "but I'm pretty sure this only works if you're the one who's up for it."

"Oh, that smart lawyer mouth of yours is next," he muttered in promise and went for the zipper on her skirt.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Rick rolled over onto his back when he felt Kate come in from her shower and perch herself at his side. He was awake, had been since she'd abandoned the cocoon of their hotel bed for the grind of the gym downstairs and returned short of an hour later, rousing him in her penance with the wicked talents of her mouth, her tongue, a surprise attack on his body's every nerve that even in its mere suggestion would've assured forgiveness.

"Good morning. Again," he said, his voice still sprinkled with morning gravel of the sexiest kind.

Despite the sun of the hour, the curtains pulled across the window continued to work their job admirably. The room was bathed in blackness, its only hint of light peeking out around the bathroom door Kate had left open a crack, and Rick was thankful. By it, he could see she'd wrapped herself only in a towel, which had his face plastered with a grin over an eruption of indecent thoughts.

"Morning." Kate's tone carried a grin all its own. "Do you feel like ordering up some breakfast? Checkout isn't for a little while."

"Come 'ere first." He curled his fingers around her bare arm and encouraged her close, tickled her neck with the tip of his nose as he inhaled the clean of her. "God, I could live on that forever." His lips stole a souvenir then he nestled back into the pillow. "I love the way you smell, the way you taste."

"I guess that seals it then," she said. "I was on the fence about it, but now I'm definitely going to swipe the soap and the shampoo from the bathroom before we go." She gifted them both a soft, open kiss. "You know, with words like those, maybe you should've been a writer instead of a lawyer," she told him, a rib but not one entirely without sentiment. "Fewer highway billboards, sure, but just imagine all the bedrooms you could be in."

With a fingertip he trailed a path along her clavicle down to the cinch in the towel at her breast, tugged it loose until it fell away. "The only bedroom I care about is one with you in it." He took a breath. "Tell me you decided. Tell me you'll come."

Kate shifted aside the covers, slid in beside him with her wet hair and naked body and heartbeat racing like her legs on the treadmill she'd had her way with. He'd asked her before he'd gone out of town, and despite the thousand other balls she'd had in the air, the invitation and everything it could lead her and them to had consumed her mind.

"Thanks to you I have, multiple times." Rick nudged her playfully for the retort he himself probably would've given. "It wasn't a small thing, Rick, what you asked," she said on the other side of a thoughtful moment. "Living together is… there's a lot to consider."

"I know there is, and I'm sorry. I'm not trying to pressure you. I'm a selfish man when it comes to you, Kate. I proudly admit that. I want as much of you in my life as I can get. I want all of you. Then I want more." When she quieted again, he did what he did best. "Hard to believe, right, that I could be so in love with a woman who squeezes the toothpaste tube wrong?"

Galled, Kate snapped her tongue. "What? I do not. And, besides, there is no wrong way. It comes out, doesn't it? At least I don't slurp when I eat my soup," she fired back.

"Hey, sometimes it's really hot and I'm too hungry to wait, and don't you even try to pick a fight right now to distract me, Counselor. You're naked and warm and it's already hard enough to focus."

She drew her hand across his chest and let it settle at his hip beneath the sheets. "Yeah, well, you're naked, too," she replied and quickly realized her observation led to absolutely no point whatsoever.

"Fun, isn't it? Imagine all the fun naked time we could have together there, now that my mother's finally gone."

Kate scrunched her face in the dark.

"You say that like you bumped her off and buried her in the backyard or something. She moved down a floor, in your building, with a man worth millions. She still has a key to your place, and clearly no qualms about using it. You remember last week when we-"

"Don't say it. Please don't say it." He remembered all too well being walked in on in the kitchen, and there'd been absolutely no cooking going on that evening-not in the literal sense, anyway. "Okay, I told you there was no pressure, so I'll just say one last thing. Then I promise I'll leave it."

Curling his body over, Rick pushed up onto his elbow, skimmed a gentle thumb across her cheek.

"Look, you're already home for me, Kate, no matter where I close my eyes at night or open them in the morning. That's truth. That's forever. I just-I'm a man who's had a lot of good in his life, but none of it has ever filled me with the joy you have, and when I think about all the minutes in all the hours I have left on this earth, you being with me to share them is all that matters and it's all I want. They can take everything else." He drove his fingers through his mussed hair. "There, now I'm done. French toast?"

Silence fell and it fell hard, and the ball was in Kate's court to break it.

"How about you bring your lips down here first?" When he obliged, she murmured into a kiss, "I love you more than anything," and what began sweet and lazy swiftly escalated to a mutual ravenous greed, a song of promises chorused by hands and mouths screaming toward crescendo.

"Does this mean no to the French toast?" Rick asked around a smile when she clenched his hips between her thighs and skimmed the warm fruits of his fingers' achievement along his length.

Kate arched over, her wet hair tumbling onto his chest. "What would you say if I told you I wanted to fuck you for breakfast instead?" She already knew the answer, because it wasn't really a question, and she swallowed up the curve of his lips with her own.

"Well, I guess I'd say go hang the Do Not Disturb sign on the door, Counselor, because that's precisely the kind of service this room deserves." He promptly locked his fingers around her wrist. "Only, don't even think about going anywhere, because I want to…"

Absent resistance, he inched her nearer so he could tease her nipple with his tongue. "Sweeter than syrup," he cooed when she inhaled an audible breath of pleasure.

"Fuck," spilled out of Kate in a sigh. "I love when you do that."

"Oh, I know you do," Rick replied before another deliberate stroke. "Want more?"

Kate dipped for his mouth and sampled. "So much more," she whispered with a peep at the clock as her forehead dropped to his chest. "But, dammit, this has to be quick. I actually have to go soon. I have to meet Lanie at noon to try on dresses for the wedding."

"Why, Katherine, this is all so sudden. I wasn't expecting this," he teased.

"Ha ha."

Rick detected something more than frustration over a necessarily hastened romp and he pressed. "Why are we huffing? Trying on dresses with your best friend sounds like fun. And you look incredible in dresses. You're not excited?"

She pressed her lips against his skin, let her open mouth linger there as she spoke. "It's not that. I just haven't done any of this wedding stuff since I was planning mine. I guess it feels a little-I don't know. I'm being stupid."

"You're not," he assured her, because he understood. He'd been in a marriage, and one that, for many reasons, should never have been. "Of course it'd bring stuff up for you, Kate. Of course you'd be thinking about it, and I'm sorry… that you had to go through what you did, not that I benefitted, obviously." Kate half giggled. "I haven't pushed and I won't, but if it's something you ever want to talk more about, I hope you know you can talk to me."

"I do, thank you. Besides all that, I wish I could just spend the whole day with you. I know it was only a few days, but I missed you," she confessed for not the first time.

"Yeah, I sorta got that," Rick crowed. She knew he would. "You'll still be over at the house tonight, yes?"

Kate's parents had gone out of town for a few days and asked that she drop by to look in, collect the mail. She'd decided to stay there for the duration, instead. It wasn't often she got to enjoy the old house without having to endure the meddling of the two buttinskies. Love them dearly, though she did.

"Yeah, my parents won't be back until sometime tomorrow afternoon."

He pushed the hair back from her face. "Okay, so here's my thought: You go do your thing with Lanie. I head to the office for a bit and get caught up, I stop home for a nap and a shower, then I come over with some groceries and we make ourselves some dinner… and some dessert, if you know what I mean." Kate said nothing. "You got quiet. Is that a no?"

"Sorry, I was trying to remember a time when I didn't know what you meant, when you were ever actually subtle. None came to mind." She planted a playful peck against his mouthful of objection. "I did like your thought, especially the part about the nap. You're definitely going to need it."

"I enjoy you missing me so much," Rick said with an appreciable flash of teeth. "So, Counselor, all this talk about dinner and dessert has me pretty hungry for breakfast. What exactly is on the menu this morning?"

Kate flattened her palms against his chest and angled her body up, reached around behind her and took him in her hand. "Oh, it's a specialty of the house," she answered and then cranked the heat up to high.

**xxxx**

Kate flung the dressing room curtain closed behind her and prepared to step into her third purple-hued number of the afternoon. In an oversize chair on the other side, Lanie sat cross-legged in wait, an audience of one with a flute of champagne in one hand and a loaded pistol of snark already emptied of two rounds in the other. Kate knew going in it wasn't going to be a quick affair.

"So, what's the deal? Are you going to move in with him or what?" Lanie called from beyond the wall of white linen that separated them. Everything in the place was white, floor to ceiling. Hell, even Marcy, the shop's keeper, looked like a walking, talking marshmallow, the two had decided. "Or is he going to have to show you a ring first?"

Kate slid the satin straps of the next frock up over the curves her shoulders, the expression on her face reflected in the mirror befitting both the dress's cut-or troubling lack thereof-and her finicky friend's remark.

"Because ultimatums seem like the next logical step in our relationship?"

"Girl, no, you do not want to play smart ass with me right now. I have got nothing but time today, and no problem at all asking that cotton ball out there to point me in the direction of all the ruffles and puffy sleeves in this place for you to try on, and she will listen because I am the bride here. I just don't know what the hell it is you're waiting for. I never thought you'd be trying on dresses for my wedding before I was trying them on for yours. You and Mr. Billboard practically wrote the damn book on fate."

Kate emerged again, her lip still cocked in displeasure.

"It's not about a ring, Lanie. I don't need Rick to propose." She glanced down at her lean body swimming in lavender fabric. "This is such a no, by the way. I look like I'm wearing a shower curtain."

Lanie sipped amusedly.

"I was just about to say. And not that it would help that thing out, but it wouldn't kill you to enjoy a candy bar every once in a while. Live a little-indulge. You deserve it. You deserve a lot of things," she tacked on with all the nuance of a sledgehammer.

Kate settled her hands on her hips, all but necessary to keep the dress from sliding off her frame to the floor. "You know, I'm not sure who's less subtle, you or Rick. And I'm not waiting for anything. I'm not like you, Lanie. I don't just leap. I like to look over the edge of a cliff first to make sure there's a net."

Lanie set down her glass and stood up, walked over to the rack lined with potentials and lifted another hanger.

"I think you know love's one cliff that never has a net, Kate. Look, I am an engaged woman, about to get herself hitched forever, but I can still stand here and say to you that you and Rick are more in love than any two people I have ever seen." She handed over the dress. "I rest my case. Now please go take that awful thing off your body."

Kate smiled softly. She knew Lanie wasn't wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Kate Beckett was a practical woman, and one who had no issue with being or admitting so. She believed in design over luck, that one got out what one put in, that things weren't given but earned, so the notion of fate, of some predetermined course, wasn't one she'd ever prescribed to or invested in. But after her talk with Lanie at the bridal shop, fate was the very thing she'd spent all afternoon thinking about, and Rick was the reason why.

The pair was standing on opposite sides of her parents' kitchen island that evening, his hands busy cutting up vegetables while hers cubed the chicken he'd brought over for their dinner, and Kate's focus on her assignment was anything but firm.

Since they'd first met over a divorce case at her office a year before, that effect was one Rick had always had over her-loathe as she was to admit it, being a woman so married to her own self-control-and across time its potency had only intensified. She could almost have been convinced it to be some sort of spell cast upon her. How else was she to reconcile the anomaly that was the need she felt for him? That's what it had become. Want had become need.

Kate's eye wandered again and found that tiny scar she fancied just above his jawline. She'd rebuked herself a hundred times for her silly preoccupation with it, but she hadn't yet found a cure.

"I'm glad to know I'm more interesting to look at than chicken, Counselor," he said breaking the hush of his concentration, "but, chef's tip: you should probably keep an eye on that knife when it's moving."

Embarrassing as being caught always was-and that happened more often than not-it bit at her more how much it delighted him to call her out on it.

"I-am," she contended, albeit unconvincingly, opting for denial, her common practice.

Rick hummed a doubter's tune.

"Hey, is everything okay? You've seemed distracted since I got here. Was your date with Lanie a bust?"

"She did threaten me with ruffles at one point," Kate said as she returned to slicing and dicing, just as matter-of-fact as could be.

He gazed off into the distance with narrowed eyes. "When one question becomes fourteen," he thought aloud. "Taffeta can be terrifying. Sounds like a rough outing. I get it. I've seen my share of unfortunate bridesmaid dresses."

"Been to a lot of weddings have you, _Chef_?"

Rick took a pause, popped a chunk of carrot into his mouth. "How did I know I wouldn't get away with that one?" he asked notably tickled by his on-target foresight. "So, were you able to decide on something, and, more importantly, did you take any photos for the indulgence of my lustful eyes?"

"Yes. And no," she said and then shot him a look from beneath her lashes. "But maybe we can play our own game of dress-up later." His fingers instantly began chopping faster, and she grinned before both sides of a deep breath. "I'm not distracted, by the way. I've just been thinking about something and trying to work out the right way to tell you."

Their eyes met, and he wondered if she could see the word balloon pop up over his head that contained his "_Gulp!_"

He set aside his knife, wiped his hands on the towel he'd draped over his shoulder, and reached for his glass of wine. "Should I be prepared to need a lot more of this?" He downed a heavy sip. "I knew I should've gotten that second bottle."

"What you should do is relax, first of all," Kate told him, rounding the counter to his side and sliding her body into the space between it and his. "Now you should just listen. You got your chance this morning. I'm taking mine now."

And she was, in more ways than one.

"Okay," Rick said and ran a hand down her arm in a move of comfort she hadn't sought but welcomed just the same. "I'm listening."

"This is probably going to be messy, but here goes. You scared me when we first met, Rick. It wasn't because you strutted into my office as some hotshot attorney with all this success and fame in his pocket and I wasn't at all that. And it wasn't because you kept trying to run me over with what you imagined-wrongly-was some brand of charm. It was because I thought I knew myself, and how much I wanted you, in spite of all the reasons that should've shielded my heart from it, made me realize I didn't."

She wrapped her arms around his waist, linked them at the back. "I love you so much. I love who I am with you and because of you, and I love you for all those reasons I tried to convince myself I shouldn't. And all of this is a very roundabout way of telling you that I do want us to take the next step, to live together."

The way his face lit up; her knees nearly buckled.

"_But_…" Kate drew his body in tight against hers. "Before you get all excited and I take you upstairs so we can ravish each other in celebration, I do have a few conditions."

"For the moment I'm all ears, Counselor." His eyes panned down, traveled back up to hers. "I can't promise you have much more than that. Condition away."

"These are important to me, okay, so I need you to hear me. First, you know I love your place. I love mine, too, but if we're going to do this, I want it to be in a place we pick out together. Second, together doesn't mean you buy it and then we live there. This has to be an investment on both our parts. And third, Clyde-yes, my cat is part of the package-and I will not tolerate the slurping of soup under our roof. Got it?"

Rick leaned in, lowered his brow to hers. "I got it. It's funny you should mention soup, actually. The witty guy I am, I thought about buying us ingredients to make some for dinner, but then I worried it might end up hurting my chances of you getting naked for me tonight and letting me do unspeakable things to your body."

"Just as long as you aren't wearing your Ewok underwear."

"Phew!" he blew out. "I went with Superman, for obvious reasons."

Kate wriggled one of her hands in between them, dragged it deliberately across the front of his jeans. "Well, maybe not steel, but I bet I can get it close."

"Of that I have no doubt," he said and took her face in his hands. "I want to do this with you, Kate, and I promise I heard everything you said. Wherever. However. As long as it's you and me… and Clyde."

The sweet wink in his voice made her insides flutter. She kissed him and he kissed her, again and again, each coupling of their lips hungrier, more impatient than the last. Spinning and bumping and tugging, they danced their way out of the kitchen until they found themselves at the foot of the stairs, shirtless and breathless both.

Dinner became an endeavor quickly forgotten, a need shoved to the back of the line behind a thousand wants, clearing a path for hunger to be sated by far greater reward than any food, and they were primed to feast.

"We've never done this here," Rick remarked between nips at her pulse point, his mouth hot against her neck. "What ever would your parents have to say about such debauchery, Katherine?"

Kate's fingers were well-occupied by their mission to free his belt free from its buckle, fumbling repeatedly in their haste to claim their prize. He was hard. He was so hard. That she could do that to him, for him-for herself-burned white-hot between her legs.

At last. Success.

She slipped to her knees, yanked his jeans along with her and left them gathered at his ankles. Tiny embroideries of a flying Superman stared her in the eye as she looked up and met Rick's.

"Maybe this'll just be our little secret," she said and did away with the superhero, leaving Rick exposed, free, at the mercy of a tool she wielded masterfully. "You might want to hold on."

Rick promptly threw an arm out, clasped his hand around the wooden post of the staircase, his other finding purchase in her loose hair, clinging, not a driver, but a passenger along for a divine ride launched swiftly to warp speed by her tongue's ambition.

It was all he could do to keep himself upright, even with the benefit of a crutch, and within seconds, he was already desperate to be inside of her, to feel her warmth welcome him, close around him, possess him as he ached to be possessed.

"God, as incredible…" In the wake of multiple failed efforts, managing a full sentence almost felt impossible to him, like trying to exhale an entire dictionary of words in a single heave of air. "Kate, I don't want you to stop, but I need you on a bed." He pushed out of his shoes and kicked his ankles free of what remained of his clothes.

Kate climbed his body like a vine, her mouth still open wide when it made contact with his-just a bite. A gentle nudge of his chest and she had him headed backward up the stairs. "And you tell me I'm picky," she replied with a throat full of honey.

"Get that spectacular behind of yours up here."

Rick took her by the hand and helped her up to equal step. Trailing a fingertip between her breasts all the way down to the tie of her pants, he pulled it loose of its knot. "I'm pretty sure this is the opposite of how you play dress-up, but I think I like our version better."

They climbed another two stairs and kissed one another deeply again, as though the simple doing warranted a trophy.

"First door on the left," Kate said with a flick of her chin. "Go."

She followed him into her bedroom, the one she'd spent her entire young life sleeping in. They'd been there together once before-long before-but under circumstances that couldn't allow what its walls were about to witness.

A lamp in the corner was switched on. Rick went straight for the bed, turned, and dropped his naked body onto it. It was unmade, the covers rumpled from when last Kate had climbed out, and it inspired a giggle from her to see his husky frame perched at the edge of the twin-size mattress.

"It's just like I remember it," he commented following a sweep of the room. "I prefer you wearing that, though." He waggled his brow. "How about the rest?" She sent her sweatpants and the purple lace hidden beneath them to the floor without a word. "Now we're twins," he chirped. "Speaking of, this should be interesting." He patted the mattress with both hands. "It's been a while since I was in a bed this small, and that was just for sleep."

Kate took a step nearer. "You seem up for it," she observed without any effort. Even if he wanted to, he could hardly hide with any ease the gift genetics had bestowed.

"Know what else I remember?" Kate's eyebrows danced with curiosity as he reached for her hand and guided her between his thighs. "You've never experienced a proper orgasm in this bed."

Her eyelids dropped when he pressed his lips to her skin and his throat rumbled in the pleasure. She fingered his hair and closed around a handful.

"You wear underwear with cartoons on them. You're hardly proper," she sighed when he teased across her center with his thumb, and then she hitched her knee and sank into his lap.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Kate pushed away from her desk, leaned back in her chair and its screws and springs whined in displeasure like a mutinous symphony orchestra. Their job had never been to offer the sort of comfort she that afternoon demanded, and they let her know it, in no uncertain terms.

"I don't care how much it costs to get it here tomorrow, just please buy me a new fucking chair right now."

Her trusty girl Friday, Morgan, padded into the office with not one but two coffees in hand. She'd bought neither for herself. It'd been that sort of a day.

"So it's come to swearing about office furniture? Glad I got you two." She set both cups on the desk, helped herself into one of the chairs on her own side of it, and fixed Kate a look poker champions would've salivated over. "So, what the fuck's wrong with the fucking chair?"

Christ did Kate love the woman. Morgan knew, every time.

"Thank you," Kate said once their shared fit of giggles faded to a natural end. "For these, too. If things keep going like this, the next step'll be an IV."

She pulled herself back in, left her new pair of nude Louboutins where they were: not on her feet, but within view where she could coo at them as such royalty deserved. Rick had recently bought them for her as a "Happy House Hunting" gift. She'd thought it a silly gesture. That was until she'd opened the box.

"That stack is for you. If I missed anything, let me know. I can barely see straight." She picked up a cup, held its tiny opening beneath her nose and inhaled a whiff of her beloved vanilla. "And we're going to need to start two more files. I know," she said off Morgan's reflexive drop of the jaw. "I know."

"The candle only has two ends, Kate, but, somehow, you're burning it at, like, twelve. Oh, speaking of hot things, your man just called. He didn't want to bother you. He said you were mean to him earlier." Kate rolled her eyes. "Um, hi, I'm just the messenger here, thanks."

"That wasn't for you. What'd he want this time?"

Some days Rick called a lot.

Morgan flipped up a dramatic hand.

"You're business is your business," she said and Kate nearly spit out her first sip of the coffee. She'd never heard such a ridiculous thing come out of her mouth. "I know, right? I heard it as I was saying it. Hilarious. Anyway, he told me to remind you the realtor will be at the house to meet you guys at 6:30 p.m. I have the address, but I'm not allowed to give it to you until you leave, so you can't cheat and go snooping. Also he said he's the luckiest man on earth, but he always says that."

The as yet fruitless search for a place to hang their collective hats was less than six weeks old, but for Kate, Operation Cohabitation was rapidly losing its power to charm. That didn't speak to a lack of commitment on her part, of course, to her level of enthusiasm for what would be the end result of every tedious moment of it, but God help her sanity. Her real estate rope was fraying by the minute.

It was almost comical how many items on hers and Rick's wish lists didn't harmonize. Hell, it almost seemed the entire chorus had been rendered mute by laryngitis. But, over dinner the previous evening, he'd told her he'd found it. He'd told her he'd found _the_ house, made it sound like Shangri-la, constructed by angels who'd been foretold by the stars of Rick and Kate's love that would one day be.

She'd ordered another drink, immediately.

And Kate knew nothing more than the house existed, that it had walls, a roof, and an address. Rick wouldn't give her anything more than that. Predictably, he was the only one of the two who thought that was a fun idea.

She'd never had more work on her plate, or less time for anything but, and it was only because she loved him so goddamn much that she was going to play his game and leave the office before 9:00 p.m. that night, despite her desk looking as though someone had turned a fan on full blast inside a paper factory.

"Yeah, well, he will be the luckiest man on earth if he gets out of this showing tonight without me wringing his neck," Kate replied.

"Gross." Morgan popped up out of the chair. "I don't want to hear about you two and your weird sex games." She chuckled. "Again, hilarious. I'll take these," she said of the pile Kate had pointed out. "You, drink, be lawlerly. If Rick calls again I'll tell him I've never heard of you."

Kate smiled as she watched Morgan walk out, glanced down at the beautiful red-soled heels gifted by her beautiful man once she had. _Only because I love you so goddamn much_, she thought.

**xxxx**

Kate showed up late. Yet one more reason to stick around the office well into the dark hours: to avoid the fucking traffic.

She saw it straight away. Rick's newest Benz-white, convertible, impossibly ostentatious-was parked on the street rather than in a driveway, beside a towering elm whose aged limbs no doubt threatened mayhem with even the slightest hint of a breeze.

Thankfully the night air was calm, sweet even, when she climbed out of her car and met him at the sidewalk with its concrete buckled and rough from years of enduring abuse from the elm's roots.

"Always the best part of my day," Rick thought aloud when Kate's fragrance tickled his senses and she stepped into him. "Hiya, beautiful." He accepted the kiss she offered, returned the gesture. "It was easy enough to find, right? No problems?"

"You mean besides having to deal with all the other humans in the world apparently being out on the roads in Stamford right now? I hate being late," she grumbled.

Rick trailed his fingers down her bare arm, took her hand in his. "It's only a few minutes. Don't worry about it. Millie just got here, too. She went in to take a look." He jumped aside with a flourish to clear a path for her eye like some TV game show host uncloaking a mystery prize.

The sky was swirled in wisps of pink and orange as the moon began to take her shape above, and there was the house, sitting beneath Mother Nature's splendid canvas the very drabbest of drab, the yard stretched out between it and the two of them a twisted jungle of overgrowth and neglect.

Kate stood with her mouth agape, certain it had to be a joke, hoping it was a joke, that Rick had relocated the For Sale sign from next door to make her laugh or that she'd dozed off at her desk and it was all a dream. Neither was the case.

"I-I don't think I understand," she said eventually of both the eyesore before her and the enormous grin plastered across his face.

From their position alone, she could see a hole in the roof the size of a bowling ball. Every pane of glass in every window was either busted or missing. The brick of the chimney was green with moss or algae or some such thing only a scientist might relish, and the entire front porch seemed to be leaning to the left, to the point that Kate wondered if it was safe for their realtor to even be inside.

"I didn't understand how she was still available, either," Rick beamed, misreading her drift in spectacular fashion. "She's something, isn't she?"

That was certainly a word for it, Kate thought.

"Come on. Let's go meet her."

Rick gave her hand an encouraging tug, led her on a march up a driveway riddled, much like the sidewalk, with its own cracks and craters. Kate swore she could hear her Louboutins screaming for their lives. She'd never felt pity for shoes before. She couldn't have picked a worse day. The guilt was acute.

They made it to the front steps and up onto the crooked porch unscathed-to Kate a small miracle in itself-where Millie was there to greet them at the door.

"Hey there, you two. Welcome." Despite her years, she still had the silvery voice of the Georgia peach she'd once been. Not a hint of Greenwich bite had ever chomped into those consonants of hers.

She pointed out the buckled threshold at their feet with a jaunty wink, like it wasn't already the forty-seventh thing on a list of defects that was likely endless. "Pick up your toes and come on in. I was saying to Rick on the phone earlier, Kate, y'all really surprised me with this one."

Millie hadn't yet shown them a place that wasn't pretty and polished, that didn't scream those who worked hard reaped rewards… that demanded safety gear and flashlights.

"Oh, that makes two of us," Kate concurred and slid Rick the side-eye. "Mr. Surprise, I call him."

Millie let loose a throaty chuckle, plucked the fact sheet on the house out of a binder decorated with their names.

"Okay, well, a bit about the home is probably a good place to start for you then, Kate." Somehow, Kate managed to stifle the snicker Millie's use of the word 'home' triggered in her. "As I'm sure you already gathered this is a classic Victorian. It sits on a quarter acre of land, and it's been in the family of the original owner ever since it was built back in 1900."

"I wouldn't be surprised if the original owner still lives here," Kate mumbled, all but certain they had to be standing within haunted walls. "Do we know why they're selling it now? Clearly it's been abandoned for a while."

Rick stepped off to peek into an adjoining room. "Because Santa loves me and Christmas has come early," he said as he curled his head around the doorframe. And he did actually tiptoe, which was probably wise, considering, though the wood floors appeared not as beaten up as everything else in sight, Kate did notice.

"Y'all are too funny, I swear. I don't know why the sale, honey. I'll be happy to ask, but I can't guarantee you an answer. What else I can you is that it's about 3,000 square feet spread over three stories-so, larger than you were looking for-and has five bedrooms and two baths, plus all those unique quirks that come along the design: the ornate woodwork, the ceiling medallions, fireplaces, sconces, and the like."

When Kate's eye again located Rick, who'd wandered off down the main hallway, Millie took her cue and excused herself, knowing from her experience with them, the two preferred to explore a property on their own.

"I'll just step out and make some of calls, let you do your thing. I should mention, when you make your way upstairs, it's kinda dark up there. I had to borrow a couple of the working bulbs from down here and twist them in. I'm sorry about that. The listing agent didn't mention-"

"It's fine, thanks. We'll be fine," Kate assured her. If she had anything to say about it, they wouldn't even be going upstairs. "We'll be out shortly, Millie." The woman gave a nod-for the good luck they'd need, Kate imagined-and went back outside, stumbling over the plank of the threshold she'd warned them about on their way in. How perfect. "_Very_ shortly," Kate added out of earshot, and set off to track down Rick.

And she did, in the kitchen at the back, the room painted with the splash of orange from the sun that remained. He was bent over with his head in the oven-the oven that had no door on the front-and had it not been for the always satisfying view of his ass, she probably would've shoved him all the way inside with her well-heeled foot.

"You know what I think would look great in here?" He bumped his head with the startle, ducked out soothing the spot with his hand. "A bulldozer," she told him, far less of a joke than his was in bringing her there in the first place. "What the hell are we doing here, Rick? Wasn't yours the list that just last week had "sleek," "modern," and "no renovations," on it?"

He crossed to her, rubbing all the while.

"What, a man can't change his mind?"

When his hand abandoned his head and curled around her hip, Kate knew she was in big trouble. The lips wouldn't be far behind. That game had been played and played and played, and she lost every time.

"Change is one thing. Lose is-"

There it was: his mouth on her neck, the brush of his tongue. Her breath caught. Jesus Christ, it was like a ninja attack where the ninja calls from outside to announce it first yet still manages to take down the enemy without a fight.

"Come upstairs with me, Counselor. I want you to see where our bed's going to go," Rick whispered into her susceptible ear, and before she knew it, they were headed up into the shadows.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Up on the second floor the aroma of pipe smoke and freshly cut grass hung in the air like a cloud, the scattering of holes in the window panes allowing the two to meet and mingle in what turned out wasn't an entirely unpleasant coupling. In fact, Kate found the unlikely perfume rather suited the old place.

She also still believed a lit match would rather suit the old place, so it wasn't even a consideration to grant Rick the satisfaction and voice the pro-albeit a tenuous one-in a sea of cons, one he'd surely grab on to and run a marathon with. He had the exasperating habit of taking a mile if given an inch.

But a part of her did love seeing him that way, the way he was as she let him lead her from room to room. She'd never known a person with that many years in their rearview mirror that paid that reality so little notice, gave it so little mind. He was a man for whom play was ever an intoxication, and discovery always a thrill.

"Whoa, Kate, come check this out! There's a false wall in here!"

Kate heard him call out, but he sounded a mile off. Hugging her way along the hallway wall to help ease her fear of the floor swallowing her whole, she headed toward his voice. That level was a labyrinth of closets and rooms, each with a singular geometry of angles that distinguished it from the one before. It reminded her of a fun house at a carnival, though the fun factor existed in far shorter supply.

"A what?" She peeked into two rooms, but he wasn't in either. "Where the heck are you?"

"Can you see me now?" Rick taunted with glee. More fun for him. More frustration for her.

"If I could, I wouldn't have asked," she mumbled to herself before another muffled cue from somewhere behind her. She about-faced, went back across the hall, leapt from room to room to avoid a suspicious stain of black she'd encountered on the way in, which even in the shadows she could see. "Okay, I'm here. Now what?"

Just then, a section of wall not much taller than a young child creaked opened and Rick waddled out in a crouch.

"I've always wanted one of these." He rose, brushed off the dust and cobwebs he carried out with him. "This one can be my office. That way I can sneak in there and make secret calls to my secret girlfriend."

Kate folded her arms across her chest, kicked her hip out.

"Maybe you should get her on the line now, get her over here and see what she thinks of the place. Maybe she'll live here with you."

Rick's lips curved at the corners as he approached and firmed her body back against the wall, pinned it there with his. That was the very reason Millie wasn't invited on their tours. They couldn't last fifteen minutes without rubbing up against one another, and her hefty commission was already bonus enough without the show.

"I know what you're doing and you can just cut it out," she charged. Then her knees unconsciously parted for his and neutralized any of the muscle behind her tone.

His eyes washed over her face cut by the beam of an exposed lightbulb Millie had put in place earlier, locked on hers.

"The evidence leads me to believe you don't really want me to cut it out, Counselor. Your case is surprisingly weak." A fingertip traveled the skin exposed by the hanging collar of her blouse. "You know, the yellow smoke stains on the wallpaper really bring out the flecks in your eyes."

Kate fought to smother a smile.

"Just what every woman longs to hear."

"You think I'm crazy." He angled for her neck, lingered there.

"It is a Thursday," she quipped.

Rick drew back, braced a palm against the wall for balance and it went straight through the plaster, leaving a hole in both it and his shirt.

She finally let the smile go. "But my case is the weak one?"

He loved that shirt but abandoned his wound licking for the moment.

"Okay, I know it makes no sense to you why I brought you here given everything I said I was looking for and all the places we've seen up until now. Honestly, Kate, I was as surprised as you are. It's just, for some reason, I felt this one right away, this connection, a pull to this house I probably should never have even stumbled across. It was the way it felt when I met you. I knew you were where I was supposed to be, too. And I don't know how to explain that. It just… is."

For something so impossible to understand, Kate understood exactly.

She took his wrist in her hand, inspected the damage to his handsome Ralph Lauren. "This is one of your favorites," she said because, beyond all others, she knew him. "I'm sorry."

"Do you trust me?" he said.

Kate deliberately let it marinate, came back with a "Yes?"

"I wasn't looking for a question, Counselor. This isn't _Jeopardy!_"

She brought his hand still in hers to her cheek. "We're going to do this, aren't we?"

"We are," Rick said. "Together."

**xxxx**

They'd closed on the house in thirty days. To no one's surprise, there hadn't been any other bids on it. Hell, the owners had gladly accepted $100,000 less than they'd asked just to be free of it. By city standards, Rick and Kate had gotten the old Victorian for a steal, but getting it had been the easy part.

The past few weeks had been a revolving door of contractors, craftsmen, and designers through the place. The labor required to make the place livable, let alone a dream home, was to be a massive undertaking, and for a pair of attorneys with schedules already loaded to the gills, Kate especially-a legal team of one-had begun to feel the squeeze.

While most of her things were still at the townhouse, which she'd thankfully received a quick offer for and was in the process of tidying up the details on, she was living with Rick at the condo. Contractor assurances rarely being assurances at all, and not knowing how long the renovation project could take, he hadn't put it on the market yet.

"You're coming with me to the birthday thing on Friday night, right? People are excited to see you," Rick said around a mouthful of bedtime toothpaste.

For reasons beyond her, he always decided that while brushing his teeth was the best time to carry on perfectly unimportant conversations.

"_Shit_. Really? I forgot all about that," Kate answered from the bedroom where she was already tucked beneath the covers. "Can't you get me out of it?"

A hush followed. Eventually, he flipped off the bathroom light and came through the doorway, climbed over her to get to his side, pausing as he passed to announce his intentions.

"The only thing I'm getting you out of is those clothes, Counselor. It has been _way_ too long. Once my hands warm up again, you'd better watch out. And, no, if I have to be at that thing, you have to be that thing. Such is love's sacrifice."

For them, four days without sex was unprecedented, especially since they now shared a bed every night. But there was the exhaustion.

"Yeah, well, you'd better get more than your hands ready for a sacrifice like that, pal." Rick took delight in the innuendo, puckered his lips at her. "Can we just maybe put in an appearance and leave? We have so much going on right now, Rick."

Clyde hopped up onto the bed and parked himself on Rick's lap, shifted his bleary stare back and forth from one to the other.

"Oh, don't you even think about getting comfortable, mister. I have big plans for your mom." He won a scratch between the ears, but that was all. "We don't have to stay long. I promise. He may be a schmuck, but Geoff's one of my partners, so I have to put on my party hat for a little while at least."

When Rick shifted toward her, Clyde scattered. Her eyes were closed, her head tipped back against the headboard. He gently gathered her hair and nestled it behind her ear.

"I know how tired you are, and I know how difficult juggling all of this is. You're incredible, you know that?"

Kate lifted one eye open. "I do know, and I suggest you never forget it." She straightened up, tugged her tank top over her head and dropped it to the floor. "Now, why don't you and that big plan of yours kick it into gear, huh? I have to be up in five hours for a client meeting."

"Vroom, vroom," he said and ducked beneath the sheets.

**xxxx**

There was nowhere Kate would rather have been, except anywhere at all.

They'd arrived at the party just an hour before, but she could swear she'd already heard "Hotel California" played overhead twice. It didn't get any better with the third. It never got any better. She hated that song.

Beneath the table, one covered gaudily by a silk cloth emblazoned with the wealthy birthday boy's initials, Rick settled a hand on her thigh and his touch instantly soothed her. It was the first truly genuine thing she'd felt since they'd walked into the ballroom at the country club that night, and the warmth it coursed through her after a bear of a week nearly made her eyes well up.

He moved into her when he sensed her body ease, whispered in her ear.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you look when you're exhausted and cranky?" His goal was singular and achieved. "Oh, don't even get me started on the smile. You'll never be able to shut me up."

"Am I ever?" Kate retorted and then turned and left a kiss on his cheek.

"So, what do you think about this for a plan?" By now their fingers had met and laced. "How about I go wish Geoff his wishes like the good little partner I am, grab us one more round from the bar, and then we go take a drive by that Picasso of ours and make out in the rubble. I sorta feel like having your lips on mine for a while."

Without even a blink she said, "Bourbon and you're on," and off Rick went.

It wasn't two minutes later that a woman unexpectedly slid into his vacated chair. After shaking off the surprise, Kate greeted her-knowing who she was from a previous introduction-and smiled courteously as the woman appeared to stare daggers across the room.

"I'm hiring you," she announced without returning Kate's pleasantry. "I can't be with that prick for another year. Another freakin' _day_. I can't do it. I know… the money, but I just can't."

Kate's brow creased from a stew of confusion, curiosity, and then shock.

"Ge-Geoff? You want to divorce Geoff?" she asked with the innocence of a lamb when she realized who the prick was, all the while her brain screaming _Holy shit! _"And, wait, did you say hire _me_? Why me?"

Miranda-aka Mrs. Geoff-picked up Kate's empty glass and kicked back nothing at all, slammed it down again. "Look at that schmuck. He doesn't even drink. He just carries around a bottle like some teenager, like it makes him look cool or something. Schmuck," she hissed a second time. "You helped one of my best friends last year, Claire Moseby… uh, Sullivan back then."

Kate knew who Claire was. Claire's was the case that'd brought Rick to her, and she was glad the memory snatched her focus for a minute so she didn't burst out laughing like she almost did. Rick had referred to Miranda's husband in the very same way. It seemed those around Geoff held very similar opinions about what he was.

"Yes, I worked with Claire. Wow. It's always strange to be reminded how small the world really is."

"You think I don't know that?" Miranda barked back. "He's freakin' screwing my dye girl from the salon. _My_ dye girl. Out of all the perky tits in the world, he picks hers. Honestly, this is Greenwich, not the Sahara. Like I wasn't going to find out?"

Whatever point she was trying for barely made sense, but it did make Kate's head spin, more than it already was. She knew Rick had a gift for bad timing, and she found herself desperate for a helping of it in that moment.

"Look, Miranda, my schedule right now is-"

"I don't care about the thing with Rick. He can still be his lawyer. You can be mine. I'll sign whatever. I don't know how that conflict crap works." Her hands suddenly flew to the purse hanging from her shoulder. "Here, I'll write you a check right now. It's his money, anyway. What do I care?"

Kate understood 'the thing with Rick' referred to their personal relationship, which wasn't a secret but was a potential hurdle. As she looked out into the room and her eyes landed on him, though, it struck her that she quite enjoyed the notion of sitting across a conference table from him again. It turned out that arrangement had been and, at least in theory, still was a titillating one.

She pulled out her phone, asked Miranda for her number and texted the line to her office. Christ, Morgan was going to kill her, she thought. She had absolutely no time for it, and despite having spent a total of less than ten minutes with the woman, she already had little patience for her, yet there she was, at a schmuck's birthday party, giving his soon-to-be ex-wife her number.

"Thank you. Thank you." Miranda hopped up out of the chair. "I'll call Monday. I'll call." Kate knew there was no way she wouldn't, unfortunately. "Oh, wait," she said turning back after a few steps. "Don't tell Rick a word about this. I don't want my husband to find out yet. I'll break the news, with pleasure. I'll call," she mouthed again using her fingers to mime a phone, and then stretched a phony ear-to-ear smile across her face before disappearing into the crowd of revelers.

By the time Rick made it back to the table, Kate was up and with both eyes on the exit.

"I know. I'm sorry," he said. "If I'd tried any harder to get away, I would've left trenches in the floor. I saw you talking to Miranda. Here." He offered her a fresh glass. "I'm sure you probably need this now. She's… a lot."

He couldn't possibly know how right he was. And she couldn't tell him.

"Let's just get out of here, okay?" She looked up at the speaker above the table. "If I have to hear this GD song one more-"

"Let's go." Rick set both drinks on the table, wrapped her hand in his. "Picasso or bust," he said and snuck them out.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: **Sending love and good health to everyone during this difficult time. I hope you continue to find reasons to smile.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

A commotion coming from his kitchen usually only meant one thing, and on that morning its origin was, again, of no surprise to Rick, who emerged from dressing for work to find Martha banging around his pots and pans rather than her own.

"I suppose congratulations are in order, Mother," he remarked slipping into his jacket. "You managed to make it, what, two whole days without inviting yourself in here?"

She bounced up from her squat, almost blinded him instantly when her entire body came into view. Dressed for a workout in a sweatshirt of neon pink and equally electric pants in the green family, he had no doubt she could've successfully signaled passing ships. More than simply too early in his day for the jolt, he imagined the ensemble being offensive at just about any hour.

"Wow, a warning would've been nice, Mother." He cupped his eyes with his hand. "To what do I owe this morning's retina damage… uh, pleasure?"

"Yes, thank you, Richard. It always warms a mother's heart to hear how happy her son is to see her. I merely stopped by for my omelet pan. Given the hour, I assumed you and Katherine would both be off to work by now." She set the aforementioned pan on the counter. "I offered to make breakfast for George this morning. He's also enjoying a late start for a change."

"Trying to kill him already, are you? And here you just moved in together," Rick teased. "By the way, it's funny how _my _means something entirely different to you than it does everyone else."

Martha circled the island and like a doting mother straightened his collar that'd fallen out of line. He thanked her with a kiss to the cheek. No matter how relentless his ribbing, he adored her beyond words, and the added distance that would soon be between them with his and Kate's move was going to be more difficult on his heart than he'd ever admit.

"My beautiful boy, look at you. You sure do take after your mother. Now, tell me, how is that better half of yours? The last time I saw her she was practically pulling her hair out."

Rick set both hands on the counter, leaned his weight into his arms. "Better isn't even enough. She's amazing, Mother. She's got all these balls in the air and she just never asks for help keeping any of them up there." He shook his head, smiled softly. "I've truly never known anyone like her."

"You're both amazing, darling, and you're lucky to have one another." She gave him a playful tap on the cheek. "Keep it that way and marry the girl, huh? I'm rather smitten with Katherine myself. I'd like to keep her around."

"And here we are back to you again. At least you're consistent." He glanced at his watch. "And I'm going to be late. I have to go see a couple of clients and then Kate's coming to the office for lunch. Are you through thieving my cookware? Can I lock the place up, like that matters?"

Martha pivoted on her sneakered heel, moved off for the door with her pilferage in hand.

"If I find I need anything else, I'll just use my key," she said with a parting flutter of the hand and walked out.

"Marry the girl," Rick whispered into the silence once he was alone, as though it some fresh idea, as though he hadn't thought about it a thousand times in thousand ways. "Yeah."

**xxxx**

Morgan huffed and stomped her foot, resembling a child throwing a tantrum.

"I can't believe you won't record it for me. After everything I do for you? You have all the fun around here."

"You can't be serious," Kate snapped. "How old are you? Relax. I don't even know if he'll get the damn papers while I'm there. And, please, tell me when it was exactly the last time you saw me having fun around here, or did I miss it with all the banging my head against the wall?"

Her Jill-of-all-trades snickered. "Interesting you should put it that way, because seem to I recall Rick stopping by a couple of weeks ago and you closing your door, so I'd say… a couple of weeks ago." A grin infused her words. "I couldn't see, obviously, but I'm pretty sure I heard a bang or two."

The pair often found it difficult to keep their hands off each other when Rick came to visit the office-or at any time, really-and Morgan just loved reminding Kate how much of a secret that wasn't.

A flustered Kate returned to jamming files into her messenger bag. She had somewhere to be after their lunch date over at his office. It was going to be more than just lunch, though, and only she knew why.

For weeks Miranda had sworn her to secrecy, but the day of the big reveal had finally arrived, and not only was Geoff soon to be the recipient of some unfortunate news, but Rick, as his attorney, was about to be brought into the loop as well.

She could only wonder how that might go over.

"Morgan, it never ceases to amaze me just how perverted you can be, yet here you stand, thinking you deserve nice things," Kate replied. "Are the copies in here for the Archers?" she asked of the paperwork Morgan had handed her and got a nod.

"Damn right I do, because I'm the best. So, how do you think Rick's going to take it? Do you think he'll be pissed you didn't tell him?" Kate shrugged, pretended not to have concern about a thing she had concern about. "Well, I'm sure you'll be able to fix it if he is," she said and then hummed a bar of some sort of porn groove.

Kate pursed her lips, but it wasn't because she hadn't thought of that.

**xxxx**

Rick was so goddamn good at being a good lawyer it practically made her wet just watching him do it.

Their sushi lunch for two at his desk had been interrupted by a phone call that couldn't wait, and as Kate sat there across from him and listened to him massage an unhappy soon-to-be divorcée from a roar to a purr, she could hardly believe the confidence he'd always worn like he wore his Armanis now had such a profoundly different effect on her than it once did.

She'd been there thirty minutes, but she hadn't dropped the news on him yet that his partner's wife had a sheriff on the way with divorce papers, that she'd been hired by the same weeks ago, that it seemed they'd be squaring off on a case again and, from the way Miranda had been filling her ear-and her voicemail and her e-mail-the whole affair wasn't set to be pretty.

"That was impressive," Kate complimented when he hung up the phone. "She definitely didn't sound happy."

Rick pushed out a breath and his fingers through his hair. "I've mentioned that one before, and by 'that one' I mean, Agatha, the bruiser of eardrums. That's pretty much how every conversation I've ever had with her has gone. But, four divorces later, I'm still the lawyer that gets the call, so I've learned how to talk her down-and also how to appreciate a fee. She's buying our heated bathroom tile for the house."

Kate toasted the air with her water bottle. "My winter toes thank you, Agatha. Four divorces, really?"

"No man in Fairfield County is safe," Rick replied with a chuckle. "How's your tuna?"

She chugged down half the water, washed her throat out of its abrupt drought. "I have something to tell you, Rick," she said, her breathing heavy from the river she'd just swallowed.

With her tone, he set down his chopsticks.

"Okay, two minutes ago you were giving me let's-lock-the-door eyes. Now it looks like you might run straight through the door just to get out of here. What's going on? Is everyth-"

"Geoff Radner is being served with divorce papers today. You're his lawyer. I'm Miranda's lawyer. She hired me weeks ago and I haven't been able to say anything."

She hadn't intended it to come out as a single word, and she couldn't tell if the expression on his face was because of the headline or because of how swiftly she'd delivered it. Either way it suggested confusion.

"Seriously?" Rick said. "You're being serious right now?"

"At some point before 5:00 p.m., here, today, yes. And I would've told you, Rick, really. I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you. Mirada cornered me that night at his birthday party. It was like some kind of hit-and-run. She basically walked up, tagged me as her lawyer, and then floored it to the bar."

Rick cocked his head and the corner of his mouth lifted. God, he wanted to kiss her senseless she was so disarming.

"Hang on a second. Counselor, were you under the impression I'd be upset with you? That I'd be angry you didn't say something about this earlier? I mean, not that I'm a man who generally takes enjoyment from the misfortune of others, but the only thing I'm upset about is that I won't get to see the look on Geoff's face the second he opens that envelope."

"I don't know. I guess I thought you might be, or that you'd at least give me a hard time about it."

"Now that I will do, but that'll just be for fun."

He folded his hands behind his head, leaned back in his chair, and Kate felt a pang of envy over the cloud his ass had the pleasure of sitting on every day. Morgan had bought her a new chair for her office, but while a step up from the collection of grinding metal that'd been the previous monstrosity, the current model was still more Toyota than Cadillac.

"What a surprise." She rolled her eyes. "He sounds like a real gem, by the way, at least from what Miranda's shared so far." She dabbed her lips with her napkin. "Maybe not so smart for your client to skip the prenup part. Oops."

Rick narrowed his eyes at her, tipped back up.

"Incredible how quickly you went from worried and apologetic to twisting the knife. You could show up the Knicks' offense with a rebound like that."

"It's still so adorable that you pretend to know anything about sports."

"Not nearly as adorable as you probably thinking you can use that spectacular mouth of yours to fast-talk your way through this schmuck circus it seems we've both now found ourselves in."

Kate perched her elbows on the desk and laced her fingers. "I know exactly how I can use it, and this circus'll just be the warm-up."

And just like that, it was as if they were back at the beginning, back in those early days when they were new, when they used to screw each other with words instead of their bodies.

Rick quietly got up, rounded his desk and walked over to his office door, which he flipped the lock on. Kate remained still, didn't follow him with her eyes but heard the click and knew what he'd done, unconsciously wet her lips in anticipation.

Like hers, they'd played in his office before, after hours, mostly, and more teasing than pleasing given the traffic in and out of the place, but the boss did have his own restroom, and it was about to offer far more than a place of rest.

"How long do you have?" There was a storm brewing in his voice, and it blew across the room like a gale. "Come here."

She smiled out of sight, turned her head and tossed a glance over her shoulder.

"Why should I?"

"You should because you want to. You should because you remember what happened the last time you did."

Like a damn Armani.

She did remember… the counter, her fingers around his hair, the solicitous stroke of his tongue.

Kate pushed out of the chair and crossed to him standing in the restroom's doorway. "I always have time for that," she said and grazed a hand across his chest as she passed.

She was leaning against the edge of the emerald marble counter when Rick shut the door behind him and stepped into her. Eagerness had already gotten the better of him, and she could feel it pressed against her thigh. She loved how the mere thought of having her made him hard and how her body softened in wait of welcoming his.

"You know, I think I like the idea of having you across my table again," he said. "And on it, though ethically we probably can't bill our clients for that." He nibbled at her neck, made her shiver with the tickle as he inched up her skirt-the one she'd zipped on that morning purposefully-and shifted her panties aside.

"So, I guess it's may the best schmuck win. Should we shake on it, Counselor?"

When he made a hollow move to take his hand away, Kate grabbed his wrist, held him against her.

"Don't," she plead and they both felt the flame of it, and in the moment just before their lips met, that's when it hit him.

_Shit_. No prenup.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Kate had seen some ridiculous things in her life, but Rick with his tool belt definitely took the cake.

It'd arrived by delivery the previous afternoon, and lucky for her she possessed a very special bag of tricks with only his name on it, because it was all she'd been able to do to convince him to take the thing off before climbing into bed next to her. As a concept, a man and his toy she understood, but when that toy was part of a game the man didn't know the first damn thing about, well, her man had probably bought it. That truly perplexed.

Absent window coverings and with walls still bare, that Saturday morning their temporary bedroom was bathed in light almost white. They weren't there full-time yet, but with her sale completed, they'd cleared the townhouse of Kate's things, donated or gifted what they'd collectively chosen not to keep, and moved what remained into the house, most of it hidden up on the third floor as work on the place continued, seemingly endlessly.

But progress was considerable-not all that difficult a jump given what they'd started with-and every room in the old Victorian now had walls, smooth, clean walls, liberated from the restraint of the gaudy wallpaper that'd smothered them and its decades of accumulated grime. Fresh panes of glass stretched across every window, and the floors were all repaired and sanded, waking their rich oak from a too-long slumber.

Kate couldn't pinpoint when it'd happened exactly. Maybe it'd been one particular moment. Maybe it'd been the sum total of all of them since Rick had introduced her to the house. But she no longer feared it. It exhausted her, certainly. It frustrated and aggravated her, the enormity of the undertaking, the Herculean endeavor that was successfully marrying the past and the present, but her partner always seemed to find just the right way to break through passing clouds, and in that moment, the right way was that ridiculous tool belt.

Already dressed, though they'd been lazy, remaining curled around one another until nearly 11:00 a.m., she was stretched out on the mattress they'd laid out on the floor, one ankle set across the other, mismatched pillows propping her up at the back. At its foot, Rick stood wearing only it and his boxers, his fists firm on his hips in a pose so cartoonish, she was downright embarrassed by the heat it ignited between her legs.

"You should be glad we don't have any mirrors in here yet. You look like a kook," she told him with a nibble at her lip she was powerless to prevent. "Unbuckle that thing and put some clothes on. My parents are going to be here any minute."

"Please. I saw that," he responded with a smirk. "You want to jump me so hard right now, you can barely stand it. Women always dig a fine man in a belt."

Kate sat forward, planted her feet on the floor. "Yours has a can of pineapple juice and a cell phone in it." She held up a finger, crooked her head as though listening for something. "Funny, I don't hear any of those women banging down our door."

"Oh!" Rick blurted suddenly as he worked to unfasten the leather contraption as requested. "That reminds me, I forgot to tell you Gus left me a message, said the new door for the kitchen should be here and installed on Tuesday."

"Gus says a lot of things. I won't hold my breath. I am excited to see it, though." She pushed up, took a couple of purposeful steps into his space and drew her arms up around his shoulders. "We're making a pretty little nest, you and me. I'm happy we get to share it."

The way she looked at him, the tenderness in her voice. He had no plan. He had no crafted words, no ring to pull out, but they alone nearly had him dropping to one knee right then and there.

He hugged her in against him, squeezed. "Me too. Just a little while longer. I want to make you happy here," he whispered into her ear, "as happy as you make me."

That's when the doorbell rang. Actually, it more whimpered at being bothered. It, too, was on the lengthy list of repairs.

"Saved by the bell, I guess," Rick joked though he was the only one in on it. "I'll get dressed since you told me I have to-prude. You go answer that, and please run so we don't have to hear that pathetic sound again."

Kate hurried off. It really was a pitiful little wail.

She opened the front door to welcome her parents on what was their maiden visit, and straight away her father started.

"You didn't tell me I needed to bring a machete with me, Katie. I'm surprised we didn't get attacked by lions on the way up."

His droll references were to the front yard, which still more resembled a jungle.

"Hi, Mom." She gave her a hug and moved on to Jim. "Hey, Dad. Remember when you used to be funny?" Kate always gave as good as she got. She'd learned from a pro.

"Aww, that's just your old dad having a little fun. This looks like quite a place you two have here," he said and gave her a peck on the forehead. "I'm glad I brought my hammer, and the rest of my tools, for that matter." He looked down at the porch beneath his feet. "Is this thing slanted?"

It was.

"Hey, Jerry Lewis," Johanna jumped in, "we've been here two minutes. Maybe save some, spread the jokes out a little. Come on, Katie." She anxiously grabbed Kate's hand and tugged her inside. "Show me."

Minutes later, Rick found the three Becketts huddled in the kitchen, such as it was with an oversize cooler for a refrigerator, a plug-in kettle, and a couple of bags filled with dry goods. Beyond the makeshift counter built from two saw horses and a piece of plywood, there really wasn't anything else to it.

"She practically insisted we buy the place," he threw in from the doorway. "Naturally, I had a few reservations. I don't think I need to tell you why." With a smile, he stepped into the room, said his hellos. "I'm kidding, of course." He curled an arm around Kate's shoulder. "I had a boatload of reservations."

The men enjoyed a shared chuckle. The women exchanged looks.

"It might be all it's worth right now, but can we give you two the full twenty-five cent tour?" Rick asked and earned a nod from Kate. "I guess we can start from the top and work our way back down? After you two, please."

Before they set off behind them, Kate placed her hands on his chest and softly pressed her lips to his, for what reason he didn't know, but as with every other time, he had to pinch himself to make sure she wasn't a dream.

**xxxx**

"I know you're usually a straight shooter, sweetie, but I have to say I really thought you were exaggerating when you first described this place to us."

Johanna stood across the room in what was eventually to become Kate's home office. She and Kate each held a paintbrush in hand, and a collection of others along with opened color sample containers were lined up on a tarp between them, the various hues being swiped against the pair's respective bare walls as they chatted.

"And this is weeks into it. I'm telling you, Mom, you would've had Dad committed if he'd brought you to see it before all this work. I'm still considering having someone come over to smudge the place, get rid of any bad juju."

"Jeez, your father, I swear. He's had every tool from the workshop packed in the trunk for a week. It probably added three hundred pounds to the thing. That's how excited he's been to get over here to help. I think the last time he had a chance to use them was after you and Rick first went up to the cabin together that weekend and broke everything."

She teased. Kate heard the wink.

Kate angled back, eyed her canvas of a wall. "I might like this one. It's not too dark and it's not too light," she remarked of the greige stroke she'd applied. "I don't know. It might be sort of boring, though."

Her mother turned and crinkled her nose. "No. That's way too boring and way too plain. Come on. Turn it up, kid! You're a kaleidoscope… says the mother takin' a heap of the credit," she cracked with a dash of Mae West.

"Okay, Mom, definitely no booze for you at lunch."

"Oh, stop. I'm just feeling proud of my incredible daughter at the moment. That's all. Sue me." She pivoted back around. "That reminds me. How's that one divorce case going, the one you and Rick ended up on together?"

Kate's immediate thought was of the hardcore make-out session she and Rick had enjoyed following what'd simply been their initial phone call about that one divorce, if that was any indication.

"It hasn't gone far. We have a sit-down at the office with the clients this week. That should be interesting. Aside from the little I've heard from Rick, I don't really know what he's like yet, but she's like the jackhammer out on I-95 you get stuck in traffic beside at 7:00 a.m. Then you drive by again, hours later, on your way home and it's still blasting away." Johanna had to laugh. Kate wished she could. "Neither of them is going to make this easy, though."

"Let me guess: money? Yeah, it's always the same old story." Johanna, studying her twin swaths of blue, then tossed out with masterful breeziness, "Have you and Rick discussed having a prenup?"

Luckily Kate's mouth was empty, or her wall might've suddenly taken on the look of a Jackson Pollock painting.

"Jesus, nice segue, Mom. And no, we haven't discussed a prenup. Why would we?"

"Why are you acting like I asked some ridiculous question? I think it's a practical one. You just bought a house together. You're moving in together. Wouldn't marriage be next logical thing on the list?"

All at once, Kate spotted Rick standing in the doorway. Once again, the belt was fastened around his waist, but it seemed a few actual tools had joined the party since the last time and were tucked inside their appropriate pouches.

"Well hey, Bob Vila, your ears must've been ringing," Johanna said thinking herself cute.

His eyes never shifted from Kate, whose expression, to his amusement, suggested a mild panic.

"Actually, I just came up to grab something and happened to be passing by. I have to admit I'm curious about the answer, though, you know, since I am here. Counselor?"

Kate glanced over her shoulder at her mother. She appeared positively tickled. "How about we talk about this later, okay? And _we_ doesn't mean you, Mom. Please don't encourage her," she admonished Rick. "She doesn't need any help in the butting-in department."

"_She_ also thinks _someone_'s being a little sensitive," Johanna said and returned to her paint.

Rick took a couple of steps in, close enough to pay Kate's cheek the attention it needed.

"You had a little smudge of grey. I got it." He noted her tensed brow, kept his hand where it was. "Hey, I didn't mean to-"

She pressed into his touch. "You didn't. It's fine. Borrowed some tools from Dad, huh?"

"Even sexier, right? He said he might even let me use them after, with his supervision, of course." Johanna snickered in the background as he leaned in for Kate's ear. "Got anything you want me to hammer?" he inquired humorously.

"Play your cards right and manage not to kill anyone with those, maybe I'll think of something."

He kissed her on the cheek. "That's a deal. Ladies, I leave you to your business." After walking out, he popped his head right back in. "By the way, I know you didn't ask, just my opinion, but none of those. You should have something… brighter," he said and then ducked out again.

"How you haven't married him already is beyond me," Johanna said. "He's completely adorable, and he obviously has you pegged."

_Adorable_, Kate thought and her lips curved. Clearly she hadn't heard what he'd whispered.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

It was almost comical how spectacularly a thing could backfire.

Kate knew herself. She knew Rick. She knew what so often happened when they were alone together, how the magnetic force of their bodies would inevitably seize upon the opportunity without fear of intervention-and with good reason. They never intervened.

So she'd resigned herself, prepared, taken precautions to avoid distractions and temptations, but, in the end, none of it had done her a damn bit of good.

She'd wanted a clear head for their first joint settlement conference with the Radners. She'd wanted to walk into it focused and firm. Every one of her clients deserved that much, at the very least, even the ones that annoyed the shit out of her, as Miranda Radner did.

Oh, and did she. Kate swore the tiny silver hair she'd plucked from her temple at the mirror that morning was entirely the woman's doing. There was at least one silver lining to go along with it, though. She'd inflated her fee. Hell, she was earning that much and then some.

She'd spent the previous two nights without Rick. That'd been her brilliant plan: to not share a bed with him, or even a house, to not let his body or her own sidetrack her mind from the matter at hand, and that'd worked, right up until the point when he strolled into her office that morning and clicked the door shut behind him.

"Well, good Thursday morning, Attorney Beckett, it's nice to see you again."

Kate recognized them instantly, those same delicious pinstripes he'd arrived in for their initial encounter all those months ago, and she had to swallow the mouthful of four-letter words that rose up in her like hot lava.

Over a white Oxford as crisp as fresh snow, the creamy Italian wool looked as though it'd been painstakingly stitched around his body that very morning. That was how exquisitely it hugged his angles and lines. A man in a tailored suit was a weapon, and her man had his aim set directly at her.

"What'd you do, bring Morgan a cruller so she'd let you back here without asking me first?" She sat forward in her chair for no other reason than to gift her eyes a thorough taste of him. "I swear she'd sell out her own mother for as little as a mediocre pastry."

Rick continued forward a step, stopped. "My, aren't we cynical this morning. Did we wake up on the wrong side of our bed? If I'd been there, I would've gladly rolled you over." He slid his hands into his pockets, fisted them when the scenario he'd kicked up began to play across his mind. "And you know sometimes just asking nicely works. Fine, it was a muffin-coffee cake, her favorite," he confessed when she narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't be upset. I brought you something, too. Me."

"I'm not hungry, thanks," Kate deadpanned and what a fib that was.

"Sure," he replied pompously and helped himself to one of her guest chairs. "So, did banishing me for a couple nights help? Are you ready to do this?"

The things she was ready to do would've made his head spin.

"If you mean kick your ass in there, yeah I'm ready."

He smirked. No one gave like Kate Beckett gave, and it was absolutely killing him, the ache of not being able to grab her and show her the effect that just forty-eight hours away from her had.

"Now, Counselor, you're an experienced runner, and every experienced runner knows you don't just go out and run a marathon without any training."

If he'd been holding a cigarette, he would've inhaled a victory drag for the repartee… and then coughed it all out with her counterpunch, which she delivered following the wickedly deliberate silence she let hang between them.

"We have three minutes," she said with a glance at her watch. "You wanna do me on the desk before we go? Wait, gosh, then what would we do with the other two and a half minutes?"

Rick's lips parted but nothing came out, and that may or may not have been intentional. If he'd been able to think, he might've been able to tell.

Kate pushed her chair back, got up and came around, pausing to gather her leather folio and laptop for the meeting. When she reached him, she leaned in, left a searing kiss on his lips.

"Don't worry about me. I am a runner, and I know how to pace myself." She walked off for the door. "Catch your breath, Billboard Boy. I'll see you in there," she floated across the air, and her knees nearly buckled on the way out.

**xxxx**

Miranda Radner, née Watham, stood all of five-foot-nothing, her frame as slight as the day was long, but contrary to the daintiness of character her stature might've suggested to those foolish enough to make assumptions of such things, everything about the Connecticuter-particularly her roar-oozed might.

But what lay buried beneath the pearl chokers and pastel coordinates and put-on Mid-Atlantic that, thanks to the marriage she was now in the process of fleeing, had become her preferred flavor, was an early thirty-something university dropout, a woman who hadn't held a job in a decade, and, in Kate's eyes, one so filled with fear at the possibility of again having so little she could barely see straight.

"I don't want anything to do with those stupid hunks of metal, anyway. You're such a boy. You've always loved those effing cars more than you loved me, you prick," she snarled at Geoff when he assured her she wouldn't be getting her, as he called them, " kid-size, greedy-ass hands" on his beloved collection of Porsches.

"I'm trying to get us through this entire list, Miranda," Kate cautioned through clenched teeth. "I can't do that if you keep opening your damn mouth."

Professionalism be damned, Kate's last nerve had been struck about a dozen nerves ago. She'd lost count of how many times she'd already had to drop that same admonition into the woman's ear. She'd also lost all ability to care about dropping it with kid gloves. Miranda had cranked her dial the second Geoff had walked into that room, and she hadn't shut up for two consecutive minutes since.

"Again, gentlemen, as I was saying-"

Shooing off the reprimand like it was a gnat buzzing in the air, Miranda doubled down with a "Lying, cheating prick!" and its only result, as with most of her other colorful outbursts, was simply a taunting grin from its target. Those were only making things worse.

Kate was already baffled at how the pair's paths had ever found a way to unite at the altar, more and more as the minutes ticked by, and they'd been in that meeting for hours.

During the course of one of their dozens of conversations, Miranda had recounted to Kate the tale of the couple's first meeting just over a decade before-courtesy of a department store checkout line; he was buying lingerie, she was selling it-and their three-week whirlwind from negligees to newlyweds felt about as conceivable as hers and Rick's house renovation being finished on time and under budget.

In other words, it was all but impossible to imagine.

Geoff was a dozen years Miranda's senior, yet still carried the manner of a frat boy. The only thing missing was the hangovers. He'd given up the sauce after waking up in a drunk tank one morning and being unable to remember how he'd ended up there, or why his hair resembled the stripes of a zebra.

If the things Miranda had shared about him were to be believed-a dubious leap of faith given the reason she'd shared them, Kate was aware-that was how it appeared he lived: with little calculation or consideration of consequence, employing his shiny law degree to demand accountability of others yet rarely of himself. She was also aware that money was frequently the ingredient that inspired men like him to such tendencies.

And the money had come. He'd skated through most of his life on his looks and a remarkable intellect, one he'd largely taken for granted but that'd earned him scholarships to college, to law school, and a partnership thereafter, and all the while he gleefully watched his bank account balloon.

That was why it puzzled Kate, the lack of a prenup. Sure, he didn't live more than one minute out in front, but he was a man obsessed with his money.

It was simple, as Miranda had also told her. They'd been in love. Now love, Kate understood.

Again, Geoff combed his fingers through his white-blond bangs and swept them off his forehead. He did the same every twenty seconds like clockwork. It was an odd tic, but hypnotic in a way. Remarkably, he still had the hair of a boy, Kate thought, sun-bleached and a bit wild-straight off the beach, no priggish New England to be found, and it perfectly complemented his tanned skin and his pearly teeth. They were so bright she could almost hear a squeak when he smiled. He was beautiful. Too bad he knew it.

In fact, the combined ego of the male duo seated across the table almost made it feel like there was a small army of folks in the conference room that morning rather than just four. The only thing thicker than their cloud of testosterone was her client's stubbornness.

Kate finally saw an opening and pushed on.

"Next up is Merlin, and this will not be up for any discussion. This item is not negotiable. Here, my client is firm."

As a divorce attorney, Kate had fought for all sorts of things for her clients, but never a parrot. The parrot was a first. That's what the Radners' ridiculous battle had come to, custody of a damn bird, and quite frankly, with the two of them as its keepers, she was amazed Merlin was still alive and flying to be a victim of it all. And the worst part of it was she was sure neither even wanted him. Like so many of the objects of contention, each just didn't want the other to walk away with him-to "win."

Essentially two words summed up the entire exercise: petty bullshit.

"Firm," Geoff echoed. "Yeah, thanks to all the Botox and lipo I paid for." He nudged Rick with his elbow, expected the improvised high-five to be returned. Kate enjoyed that it wasn't.

It was clear that Rick was of like mind, and that Geoff's mouth had the same tiresome problem as the soon-to-be ex-Mrs. Radner's: it never stayed zipped for very long.

Kate grabbed Miranda's arm beneath the table when she saw her mouth fly open. "Mr. Castle, you might want to try controlling your client. I think we'd all like to be able to get out of here at some point today."

She attempted to flash a look at Rick, but its intended haste sputtered when he caught her at it and locked her in.

"Your hypocrisy is almost as rich as my client intends to still be when we walk out of here, Ms. Beckett. As for Merlin, I wouldn't normally grouse over a bird and you know how I hate to ruffle feathers, but I'm going to have to call a fowl on your client's claim to my client's cherished pet. He considers him like a son."

Kate had to give him that. The puns were lightning-quick and award-worthy, as was her triumph in suffocating the giggles they ignited in her belly.

"A _son_, Geoff?" Miranda carped between cackles. "You're so full of it. You don't give two shits about the bird, or the vases from our honeymoon, or the leather crops, or any of it." Kate and Rick exchanged a glance of mutual intrigue over the crops. The crops were new. "You sure as hell don't give a shit about me." That was when her voice began to crack. "All you care about is screwing twenty-five-year-olds so you can pretend you're still one of them and screwing me out of everything I deserve, everything I gave to this marriage."

Like a pitcher, that's when Geoff went into his windup and tossed the heat he'd been saving up straight over the plate.

"Everything you deserve? You've been doing plenty of screwing yourself, Miranda. I think it's time we had a little chat about our tennis pro, hmm?"

She swung at the pitch with her eyes closed, spoke before giving it a thought. "At least _he_ can get it in! That's more than I can say for you."

A tickled Geoff tipped back in his chair having successfully retired the batter. A stunned Miranda sat frozen.

"Okay." Kate puffed out a breath. The revelation had thrown her for a loop, too, and she needed to regroup in order to figure out how to try to spin the unwelcome surprise. "I think it's time for a break. We'll meet back here in twenty minutes. Miranda, in my office please. Now."

In a huff, Miranda threw her chair back and went for the door. "I need to use the bathroom," she said and stormed out.

While Geoff basked in the execution of his rabbit-out-of-a-hat trick, Rick did his best to play busy with his paperwork. He'd known going in, of course, just not when or how the rabbit would be pulled, and having witnessed the look on Kate's face when it was made it difficult for him to join in his client's celebration.

"Well, that was fun. You know, I never realized how hot your little lawyer there is, Ricky."

Rick turned instantly and shoved him, knocked the chair over onto its side and spilled Geoff to the floor.

"Gosh, be careful, Geoffy. You could hurt yourself." He stood and collected his files. "I'd offer to help you up but I don't want to," he said and shut the door behind him.

Assuming she'd both need and appreciate it, he gave Kate the time alone to cool off and used it to make a few calls, returned shortly thereafter to find the door to the conference room closed as he'd left it. The scene he found inside, however, was anything but. Apparently, he'd walked out of a divorce settlement meeting and back in to some sort of office-kink adult film shoot, and starring the least likely of performers.

He pulled the door shut, stood there a moment with his fingers around the handle to let it all register before he set off to find Kate, whom he met just exiting her office.

"You don't want to-" He hooked her by the arm, led her back inside. "I'm pretty sure we're done here for today, Counselor."

"What the hell are you talking about?" She was in no mood for games. "Rick, come on."

"How do I say this?" he thought aloud. "Um, so, I just walked in on our clients-yours and mine, together-and, well, mine was very busy giving yours some very thorough… legal advice, for which she seemed very… appreciative."

Kate's mouth dropped open.

"I'm sorry. Are you telling me they were-?" Rick nodded once. "In my-?" Rick nodded twice.

And then they both just started laughing.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

It was well after dark by the time Kate returned to the condo following the eventful day with the Radners and the unexpected turn it'd taken.

She could hardly recall a meeting as tedious, one as surreal, one so foul as to require vats of actual disinfectant to clean up after. Had her head not already been pounding, she probably would've spent the remainder of the afternoon banging it against her desk. The only silver lining to the entire thing was that she hadn't seen Geoff and Miranda going at it with her own eyes. Rick had taken that bullet, and, quite frankly, he'd deserved it.

A wave of blissful silence enveloped her when she opened the front door, floated her through it and into the warm light of the place she temporarily called home. Her shoulders dropped half a foot when she let her bag slide the length of her arm and come to rest at her feet. It was only in that moment she realized the breadth of the battle their tension had been waging against gravity.

She remained there, motionless, let her lungs fill with the fragrance of him, of his space, let her eyes flirt with it, and while its masculine edge still didn't speak to her tastes, she realized she'd come to admire it more than she imagined she ever would. It was Rick's home, perfectly, and he had become hers.

"I was just unpacking, catching up on some guy time with Clyde. We were talking about how anxious we were to see you, among other guy things."

Rick was standing at the edge of the kitchen, his shoulder braced against the wall. His suit and loafers had been swapped for jeans, a white V-neck tee, and bare feet, but as appetizing as she'd found him in his wool best earlier, it was nothing compared to the butterflies that fluttered when the whole of him came into focus.

"You and Clyde were talking, about guy things," Kate mocked.

"Okay, so maybe he's been asleep for the last, like, twelve hours, but he'd definitely be fine with me speaking for both of us about the anxious thing."

She hoisted her brows at him, relished in the smile it shot to his eyes.

"I'd offer a penny for your thoughts, Counselor, but I sense they might be worth a lot more than that. Name your price."

"So, now you want to pay, huh? I spend all day trying to wrestle money out of you and now you're offering it, just like that?"

"Now there's an idea," he said and crossed to the island, where he had a bottle of scotch and two glasses already waiting, "wrestling for dollars. Next settlement conference, I'll bring the kiddie pool, you bring the Jell-O." Kate kicked off her heels, didn't utter a word. "Hey, I know today sucked, so I've got two arms here and some booze, though I admit to being a teensy bit nervous to hear which of them you'd prefer right now."

Kate stepped up to the counter and continued around its edge, curled her fingers around the neck of the no doubt ultraexpensive bottle.

"Today sucked," she said discharging a breath not of bother but of relief to now be exactly where she wanted to be.

He held her like he might never let her go when she announced her preference with action, not word, and melted into his body. "Thank you for humoring me," he said after a spell, "but you really want the booze, don't you?"

"Pour, please."

"Your wish and all that, m'lady, but I'm going to need something from you first. After being banished to our semifinished pile of bricks for nearly three days and having to shower with a construction guy named Earl, I'd say a proper smooch is in order. And you'd better make it a good one. This is the 1960 I'm about to share."

In a declaration of her intention to comply, Kate wet her lips in anticipation, and then grabbed his tee in both of her fists.

"I don't know why you're complaining. When I showered with Earl, I thought he was a master with the soap." Before Rick could get out one word of objection she covered his mouth with hers, kissed him deep and hard and long.

"Wow." Left off-balance, he reached out for and gripped the countertop. "If you'd done that before I left your office today instead of punching me in the arm, muffin-loving Morgan would've gotten quite an eyeful on my way out."

Kate's eyes knowingly drifted downward and then back up. "I see that. Yes, she would've. Now pour."

Each of them swallowed a generous first taste, warmed their throats with the aged burn.

"I watched you for a couple of minutes when you came in. You seemed… I don't know, lost in something. Do you want to tell me what you were thinking about?"

"If only you ever let me just say no." With a soft smile, she finished what was in her glass. "I was thinking about you, and me, I guess."

As expected, the news went over well.

"Oh, yeah? I'm one of my favorite topics." She rolled her eyes, grew quickly solemn. "You're my favorite everything. What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"

Tenderly, she brushed the back of her fingers across his cheek. "All these stories we hear all day long from our clients, Rick, all the bullshit it always seems to come down to in the end-he wants the skis he never uses, she wants the napkin holders she doesn't even remember buying. Do you ever just stop and wonder why the hell anyone even gets married anymore?"

He wasn't certain when it would happen, and that one wasn't at all the moment he thought it would be, there in the dim light of his kitchen, barefoot, surrounded by the crates and boxes of a life in flux. It wasn't candles or waves crashing or violins. It wasn't out of the pages of any fairy tale. But somehow, despite all its inelegance, he knew it was the one, like life had walked right up and tapped him on the shoulder, asked him what the hell he was doing letting one more foolish second pass.

With her words left hanging in the air, he backed toward the hallway, no nerves, no hesitation.

"Where are you going? Rick…"

"Don't move. Don't," he told her and disappeared from sight, returned a minute later with a sleepy Clyde in his arms, whom he set down on the island beside them.

When the furry beast took no time making himself comfortable in a spot he normally wasn't permitted to occupy, Kate waggled her finger at him. "I don't know what you two are up to," she said, "but don't get used to this." She pivoted her focus to Rick. "Is this the part where you bring in the cute, fluffy distraction and then confess about the thing of mine you broke?"

Rick reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulled out an emerald-cut diamond ring and set it next to the cat, who couldn't have been less impressed.

"No, Kate," he said as he watched her expression morph into shock, "this is the part where I tell you if you'd asked me a year ago why the hell anyone gets married anymore, I wouldn't have been able to give you a good answer. It's the part where I tell you that falling in love with you and being in love with you have made me understand why, in a way I never expected or dreamed possible."

When her eyes welled with tears he cupped her cheek, caught with his thumb a single droplet that spilled over and whisked it away.

"When I'm near you and all the magic and all the light you carry inside, I feel like I can walk on water, and I want to spend the rest of my life holding your hand and discovering with you all the things marriage can be, not lost in all the things people try to make us believe it's not. You deserve a man who believes you hung the moon, Kate. I'm that man, and no one could ever love you as much as I do. I hope you'll agree to let me show you how much, forever and ever."

"So, nothing's broken?" she said humorously and pressed into the warmth of his palm.

"Not yet, but my heart will be if you say no. So don't say no."

Kate picked up the ring, whispered "Did you know about this?" to Clyde, who responded with only a stretch of his toes. She gazed at it a moment, then up at Rick. "I'm not saying no."

With a smile on his face brighter than the diamond, Rick slipped it onto her finger. "God, I love you," he said and hugged her in, lifted her off her feet with the squeeze. "And he did know, by the way. I asked him for his permission, after your father's, of course. It took a can of tuna but he came around."

"My dad?"

"Yeah," he chuckled and put her down, softly kissed her lips. "There's something else. It just hit me, and this is the part where you might think I'm a little crazy."

"I'd wave 'bon voyage,' but that ship's already sailed."

He pinched her and she giggled. "Sometimes I just toss 'em right in there for you, don't I?" he thought out loud. "Okay, so here goes nothing. Tomorrow's Friday. I think we should ditch work, hop on a plane to Vegas, get hitched, and then spend a couple of nights celebrating in a big bed in a big suite in a big hotel."

Stone-faced, Kate stared back at him until, eventually, she replied with a simple, "Okay," which set his eyes darting suspiciously around the room. "What's wrong with you? I mean besides all the obvious things."

"Funny. I just had to make sure I didn't hit my head and wind up in the hospital or something, that this is really happening in my life, right here and right now. I expected you'd counteroffer or pooh-pooh the idea altogether and I'd have to present my entire case, which probably would've just been me begging like a fool really, since I didn't know any of this was going to happen tonight."

She pushed into him, inhaled the sweetness of his skin, the scent of joy that was radiating from it like soap. "Frankly, I kind of surprised myself. Guess I'm all negotiated out after today's fellatio fiasco. Or maybe it's that loving you madly has driven me, well, mad. Who knows what I might've agreed to or where I might've let you take me."

"Actually, it was Geoff that was giv-never mind. That's a distinction without a difference, and seeing it was already too much. I don't need to rehash it. Except maybe with a therapist," he muttered.

Drawing his hands down her arms, he took both of hers. "How about right now you let me take you into the other room, help you out of your clothes, and put you in a hot bath? While you're soaking, I can play travel agent and get everything booked. I'll even let you take another shot of this with you," he said flicking his chin at his cherished bottle.

"Oh, you'll _let_ me? Better get used to me helping myself, pal. Married couples share everything, you know."

Rick dipped a hand into his back pocket, came out with his phone and proceeded to start typing. "Just jotting down a few notes here quick. Number one: cat still not allowed on counters. Sorry, buddy," he side-mouthed to Clyde. "Number two: share everything." He turned his eyes up, smirked. "Number three: hide scotch."

Kate swiped the phone from his hands, contributed an item to the list. "Number four, don't make Kate regret this."

With all the sincerity of his heart, he promised the only thing he could. "For all the days and nights I have left, I'll never try harder at anything."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Kate had fallen asleep just minutes after they'd climbed into the backseat of the car home from the airport, her head resting against Rick's shoulder, her fingers woven with his.

Lord knows they hadn't done much sleeping that weekend, and when they had it'd only been for a few stolen hours here and there, certainly nothing in the way of pattern normalcy. Frankly, for most of the trip-holed up as they had been in the suite, in the bedroom, in the bed-they'd barely been aware of the time at all. They'd actually fit right in. Such was Vegas's infamous way.

Rick, too, had nodded off at some point along the drive, fought it though he had. Despite the attempt of the brilliant lights of Manhattan's passing cityscape to woo his attention, he'd only had eyes for Kate, because there still existed-might always exist, he knew-a part of him that feared her some fantastical mirage of his heart that might, at any moment, simply vanish.

Eventually she stirred and roused them both, and around a yawn he tried and failed to casually swallow, he welcomed her back to the waking world as though he hadn't missed a moment of it.

"Hey, sleepyhead, you've been out almost the entire ride. We're only about fifteen minutes from Greenwich."

"_I've_ been out?" She pushed in, cocked her head. "You're drooling."

His hand flew to his mouth but the smile she cracked had him standing down. "Always wearing your arguing hat, aren't you, even on vacation?" he muttered sportively. "You can take the girl out of the law office, but you can't take the law office out of the girl." He let his head fall back against the rest, made over his tone to one soft and sweet. "You know what you look like when you sleep?"

"I'm not sure if I'm more afraid of the answer or that you were watching me."

"Because I just can't seem to help myself-your fault really-I'm afraid you're going to have to get used to the watching," Rick informed and brought her hand to his lips, pressed a kiss. "You look like my wife. I wish I had the right words to describe how happy that makes me."

When Kate leaned in he did the same, and they came together. "You don't need any. I already know."

And she truly did. It didn't matter to her that they'd been married beneath flashing pink neon, that the lone witness to it had been a stranger in a dress of red leather and too many zippers that'd left little to the imagination, or that their families and friends would probably have a collective fit about all of it when they found out. In all her years, she'd never felt prouder to be anything than she was to be Richard Castle's wife.

"If we weren't properly buckled in for safety, I'd give you a little demonstration of my happiness," he said. "Guess you'll have to wait until we get home." He tipped back over to his side. "Home… God, I hope my mother wasn't too much trouble for Clyde."

Kate giggled. "Don't let the furball fool you. He's been known to throw a wild shindig or two. Let's hope they're both in one piece."

"Have you changed your mind or do you still want to wait until the housewarming in a couple of weeks to tell everyone we got hitched by a guy wearing a baby blue suit and a pompadour? I mean, honestly, I'm good with that or whatever you want to do. I just want to make sure you can keep a lid on your excitement about being Mrs. No-Hassle Castle for that long, and that I don't do anything stupid and end up in the doghouse."

"Oh, so you can control that then?" she teased. "And, no, I haven't. I think the party really would be the best time. We'll all be together, and if they get pissed about it and come after us with pitchforks, I'm sure Gus's power tools will still be laying around for us to defend ourselves with."

Rick reached into his jacket pocket for his phone, went to light it up but then thought better of it.

"You just reminded me, speaking of defending. I got a text message from Geoff at 2:00 a.m. It included a photograph, which I just decided I'll never, ever subject you to because that's how much I love you. Anyway, it would seem that, unfortunately for Merlin the parrot, he's going to have both of his obnoxious parents back under one roof. I tell you, I'd rather have bet every cent I have to my name on red back in Vegas than touch the bet for how long that reunion's going to last."

"I'm having all my phone numbers changed, immediately. _And_ closing down my office."

"I don't blame you." He side-eyed her in the shadows. "I can't say I haven't had a fantasy or seven about you and me and that conference table of yours since that day, though."

She nibbled at her bottom lip. She was way ahead of him on that.

**xxxx**

Later that week, Rick showed up at the firm with a surprise lunch for Kate in hand, found her with her head buried in a stack of paperwork, her hair clutched in a punishing fist for its disobedience, and a trench between her brows.

Ordinarily a fan of surprise, but wise enough to understand his wife would probably prefer otherwise, given the added stress of what was finally their moving day, he allowed Morgan to announce his arrival, and it didn't take long for him to realize just how right he'd been.

"This isn't even fucking English," she hissed as she scrutinized her own words on the page. "Christ, Kate, pay attention."

"Wow, tough boss," he commented from her office doorway. She hadn't noticed him. He'd relished the moment of invisibility. "Maybe you should go a little bit easier on Kate. I hear she has a pretty full plate right now." He stepped inside, closed the door behind him, hoped for a smile but clearly hadn't worked hard enough to earn one yet.

"Doesn't mean her work has to turn into garbage like this." She shoved the pile out of her face, slid back in her chair. "What are you even doing here? You said the movers showed up." Just then, Clyde jumped up onto the desk, pranced proudly across its length and back again before he settled and parked. "Thanks. Thank you. You're just so helpful," she grumbled.

"Hey, buddy," Rick tossed to her cute but lacking assistant for the day, who narrowed his eyes dreamily with the dose of affection.

He set the bag he carried in with him down in front of her. "They did, and they're doing their thing. My mother told me she'd keep an eye on them while I ran a quick errand. You said you wouldn't be able to get out today, so I thought I'd bring you some lunch. It's nothing fancy, just a salad and some soup. The shop had your favorite, chicken and rice. Oh, and there's a little something extra in there for you. From the way things look and sound in here, I'm glad they caught my eye."

Kate unrolled the top of the bag and peeked inside. A smile instantly followed.

"Oatmeal raisin?" She got up with Rick's nod, rounded the desk. "You're the best husband I've ever had," she told him and sealed it with a kiss.

"If keeping you in cookies is the price for being the _only_ husband you'll ever have, hell, I'll buy a damn cookie factory." He pulled her into a hug. "I wish I could stay and play all afternoon like you two, but I should get back. There are four guys working the load, so they said it shouldn't take all that long. That is, unless Mother keeps up the flirting. She almost hurt herself earlier falling over the one in the tank top. I swear. George must be a saint."

Kate pinched his back and he winced.

"That was for the 'play all afternoon' comment. And, yes, please get back there before we end up getting sued for harassment or something. The two of us have enough people's cases going right now without adding one of our own." She bit gently, tasted the skin of his neck. "I'm sorry you have to handle today by yourself. I'll get out of here as soon as I can, and I promise I'll make it up to you tonight, our first official night in our new house."

Rick slid a glance Clyde's direction and pulled it back to her. "Watch that sexy talk in front of the K-I-D," he joked and whispered the rest into her ear. "You will make it up to me, and I'll spend the rest of the day thinking about all of the ways."

**xxxx**

Kate almost didn't recognize it as their house when she pulled into the driveway from work that early evening. Her car rumbled to a stop over the concrete still pitted and pocked-that project would come later-and stepping out of it her eyes could hardly believe the magic the landscaping crew had worked on what, just days before, had been a scene that would've sent many running for the hills.

Greens had taken the place of browns, ferns and evergreens of weeds and brambles, and as she walked the freshly laid path of arching stone toward the front porch, she couldn't help but feel a bit like Dorothy in _The Wizard of Oz, _like she'd opened her eyes to a new world, yet also come to realize how much the old Victorian had come to fill her heart.

The movers had come and gone. She made her way inside, freed Clyde from his carrier to rooms cluttered with their mingled belongings, boxes of all sizes and shapes, not a thing where she'd ultimately want it to live, no doubt, but it wasn't the disarray she saw. She saw only the art the place had become, and the future she intended to spend with Rick admiring it.

The cat darted off somewhere to find himself some trouble on his new playground, and she spent a few minutes tiptoeing around alone downstairs. Rick was nowhere to be found, so she helped herself to a glass of the wine he'd left uncorked on the kitchen counter and set off upstairs in search.

It was chaos up there, as well. Even with just a quick sweep from the landing at the top of the stairs, Kate appreciated the work they had ahead of them, but the cabernet helped the sting, as did the soft sound of her husband singing off in the distance, which in its uncommonness struck her both endearing and amusing.

She tracked the echo back to his secret room, the one he'd somehow managed to uncover on their first tour of house, and she couldn't have been less surprised that with all there was to be done, he was tucked away like a boy playing hide-and-seek, doing absolutely none of it.

"So," she said, slowly pulling open the pivoting section of refurbished bookshelves, "is this going to be your secret recording studio where you'll lay down secret songs for that secret girlfriend of yours?" She grinned around the rim of her glass when he jumped from the fright. "Yep, busted by the wife, buddy."

"Welcome home, Counselor," Rick said after a calming breath and folded her into his arms. "I happen to be a big fan of my wife and her bust." His eyes dipped when he softened the embrace and he smirked. "I only have songs for them… uh, her."

Kate kissed his lips hard and fast. "What are you doin' in here, Elvis? I have to assume you're up to no good." There was a table lamp plugged in on the floor, a large, red bow there beside it; aside from a few stacks of books, the space was otherwise empty. "Looks like your recording studio might be doubling as a gift-wrapping room."

"Shit, yeah, that. I have a surprise, but I didn't get the chance to set it up. I didn't expect you so soon. You seemed really buried when I stopped by today."

"I was. I decided being here with you was more important," she told him. "The work will still be there tomorrow."

He slipped his hand around hers. "All the more time we'll have for you to make missing the actual moving part up to me. I lifted four boxes, you know." Kate rolled her eyes. "Okay, so the bow is out, but I still have the surprise. Would you like to see it?" He relieved her of her glass and tugged her out of the room before she could say a word.

He led her back down the hallway to the edge of their bedroom, where he came to an abrupt stop. "I had Gus do a little something for me, for us," he said and turned his eyes downward rather deliberately. "He cleaned it all up, refinished it. You'd hardly even know." Kate appeared understandably confused. "That's the original threshold from the front, the one we almost tripped over a hundred times."

"It's… really?" She crouched, caressed her fingers over the polished wood. "I can't believe it's the same one. It's beautiful, Rick."

"He did a great job with it. And he actually finished it, which is more than I can say about a lot of things around here." Kate reached for his hand and he helped her up. "I just wanted to have something from the beginning of all of this here with us, and for it to always be a part of the incredible thing we've created together. We'll always be able to see it and to be reminded of how far we've come, and from the most unexpected place. What do you think?"

"I think if I shared with you how often you overwhelm me, you wouldn't believe it." She wrapped her arms up around his shoulders and locked them. "But it's the truth, and I really, really love it. I really, really love you. Now, how about you pick me up and carry me over this new-old threshold of ours? I see our bed's in there, and I'm ready to start paying off my tab."

Without missing a beat, Rick fell back into the Elvis Presley tune he'd been singing earlier. "Her lips are like a volcano that's hot..."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Their first full week in the new house came and went in the blink of an eye, and Kate could barely see through the blur of hers when she slogged through the door of the firm that morning at the crack of dawn, her need of caffeine following little sleep and a standing three-mile date with her treadmill like an emergency siren blaring in her head.

With still wet hair and slippers covering her stockinged feet, she ducked first into the kitchenette and set to drip a pot of mud-like coffee that Turkish brewers would no doubt have applauded, then continued on to her office put down her things, and it was through that most routine act that a series of present and past mistakes began to kick off and to reveal themselves.

The first was simply her decision to sit. For, somehow, in just the minute between that one and the previous, she forgot entirely about having to go and retrieve the coffee her body had already suffered too long without. The second was realized only after she did sit, when she reached into her day bag to pull out her dress shoes. The dress shoes, it turned out, she'd neglected to pack.

Kate had shed a tear or two in that office over the years, the majority of them born of happiness or pride, a few of them otherwise, but she'd never cried of embarrassment. No, that was unique and special to that Friday, during which she was scheduled to meet with three clients, two existing and one new-the latter, somewhat worryingly, courtesy of a referral from Miranda Radner-and later to join Rick for dinner to celebrate their triumphant survival of the maelstrom that'd been the past seven days in their old Victorian on Oakdale Road.

They'd done well enough at tucking things away in drawers and behind closed doors, in making rooms cozy enough for their forthcoming partygoers so only the two of them and not their guests would know of what lay hidden beneath, but things weren't all Pottery Barn and polished.

There was the suspiciously noisy pipe behind the wall in their bathroom, light switches that didn't control the lights they were supposed to, a queer buzz originating from somewhere in their kitchen, and windows that slid shut on their own, no matter how vigorously they fought them, to name but a few items on Gus's list of fixes. To say nothing of the fact that Kate was still convinced the place was haunted, which, of course, brought her husband-and only her husband-unending delight.

But they were doing it. They were diving in and making it work as best they could, and in spite of all of the snags, she'd never felt a greater sense of belonging or more at peace in all her life.

Displeased and distracted, it took a good thirty minutes before Kate realized she didn't have a mug of coffee in her hand, and in an effort to rectify that only made it halfway across her office before Morgan appeared out of nowhere and scared her half to death.

"_Jesus. _What..." She flattened a palm over her heart, noted its pronounced thump. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Um, hi, I'm Morgan. Maybe you've seen me at some point over the past four years," she sassed, expectedly so. "I work here. I sit out front." She had her purse still settled across her body, a takeout cup from their go-to joint in each hand, and she snickered. "What the hell are you _wearing_ here?"

In unison, their eyes dropped to Kate's feet. Nothing complemented a Tahari suit quite like a fuzzy pair of purple slippers.

Kate huffed out a breath. "It's been a very long week, okay? I'm going to have to borrow your clown shoes for my meetings, not that they'll be much better." Her assistant was a doll of a thing, petite in nearly every sense of the word, save for her feet, which seemed, comically, better suited to a lumberjack. "Seriously, what are you doing here so early?"

"You said you'd be here, so I'm here." Morgan extended one of the cups and Kate reached for it. "That's how I roll. That's why you pay me the big… _holy shit!_" Her gaze locked onto Kate's hand. "Talk about big. My god, is that what I think it is? Did Rick propose?"

And there was mistake number three.

_Dammit_, Kate thought. She'd been so careful. She'd nearly made it to the finish line without screwing up, but there she was, caught, and on the freaking day before she and Rick would finally be announcing the news.

She swallowed down a sip of the coffee then let her chin drop, her eyes close. "We wanted to wait and tell everyone together at the party tomorrow night. We flew out to Vegas a couple of-"

"You got _married_?" Morgan shouted like the two were conversing across a sea of chattering people.

"Christ, this has to be a nightmare," Kate muttered as Morgan stood there slack-jawed. "Yes, Morgan, we got married, and if you can't find a way to magically forget this information before I kick you out of this office in ten seconds, please, at least, promise me you won't open your big mouth and say anything to anyone else before we do."

Morgan recoiled as if she'd been slapped. "I know how to keep a secret, thank you very much, and I may have big feet, but I hardly have a big mouth." Kate hoisted a brow. "Whatever. Shut up." She turned on her offended heel for the door. "I'm going to work at my desk now. I love my boss and I'm so happy for her, but she can be really mean without her morning coffee."

She disappeared out the door and Kate looked down at the cup in her hand, smiled.

"She loves you, too," she called out after her.

**xxxx**

Because they neither wanted to deal with the time and hassle of meeting and coordinating with catering teams nor with preparing food themselves, Rick and Kate opted to go the route of the potluck for the housewarming party, inviting their guests to contribute anything that might well accompany the lasagnas her mother had graciously offered to bake.

What the hosts did themselves provide, however, was the booze, and there was a lot of it, so much, in fact, that one of their beautiful, hand-crafted concrete kitchen counters lay almost entirely hidden beneath the collection of bottles, and Morgan, it seemed, had already sampled a couple of rows deep.

"Hey, Mom and Dad Kate!" she whooped at Jim and Johanna when they wandered into the kitchen together to discard their dinner plates. "I'm pouring, if you want." And she was: vodka, a good bit of it on the counter rather than in her cup.

Johanna gave her husband a nudge.

"Uh, why don't you let me do that for you, Morgan?" he said taking the hint and she bounced away, threw her arms around Johanna while he stealthily substituted water for Grey Goose.

"I love you guys a lot. I wish I could see you all the time." Morgan wasn't quite slurring, but the distance to it was shortening by the second. "You must be the happiest parents." Suddenly and inexplicably, she clamped her hand over her mouth then swiftly pulled it away. "Oh, no, I wasn't supposed to tell anyone about the wedding." She'd done nothing of the sort, in actuality. "Kate's gonna kill me. Then she's gonna fire me. Oh, no. Please don't tell."

The Becketts exchanged a look, an implied wink of their eyes, and set to consoling their fuddled friend.

Meanwhile, Rick had succeeded in sneaking Kate away from the crowd and upstairs for a moment alone. He'd been jonesing for it for nearly two hours, since their first guest had arrived, and the steady infusion of wine had only worked to elevate the craving.

"Can we kick everyone out yet?" she asked, sucking in a breath when his mouth opened against her neck for another taste and sent a bolt of heat through her. Already knowing the cruel answer, she tugged him away with the fistful of hair she'd seized. "Then you have to stop doing that. My parents are downstairs and I can't think when you do that."

"Thinking is overrated," Rick countered and attempted again to advance, only to be rebuffed. "Okay, fine, I'll stop, but the second we're alone-"

Kate grabbed his shirt with her other hand, used it as leverage to thrust herself forward and capture his lips. "The second," she whispered in promise. "Right now, we need to get back down there or Morgan might end up taking her top off. You know she can't be left unsupervised."

Rick puffed the air out of his cheeks while he assessed the arising situation below his belt.

"See what you do? I'm going to need another minute." He walked in a tiny circle. "So, what do you think about sharing our thing now? We probably should've just handed out informative flyers when people came in. I doubt a few of them'll even remember anything anyone says at this point."

She glanced down, remarked with a smirk. "Yet one more reason to appreciate being a woman. Take your minute then come down. We can tell them now." Before going she stepped into him. "Trust me, I want it, too," she told him. "You can't see it but I can feel it."

That only stretched out his intermission, but Rick rejoined the party a few moments later, heading first to the kitchen to retrieve the special bottle of champagne he'd tucked away for the occasion, and then excusing Kate out of a _tête-à-tête with Lanie._

"Friends, everyone, hello," he hollered before punctuating the attempt with a necessary whistle to win the buzzing crowd. "Thank you all for your attention, especially you, Judge Johanna and Hillary," he threw in amusingly. "I promise you two party animals will be able to return to your game of flip cup here in just a few minutes."

Hillary, who'd long had a crush on him the size of Texas, all but shot hearts out of her eyes just hearing him utter her name.

"First of all, Kate and I want to thank you for being here with us tonight, and for not pointing out all the things you've found that need to be fixed. I assure you, despite how gorgeous she looks after these months under the knife and these weeks of cleaning and staging, we know how long that list still is. Believe me, we know."

He turned to Kate and their eyes met, smiled.

"Tonight is, um, well it's actually a celebration of more than just this place. I know a lot of people say what I'm about to, but none of them has ever meant it as much I do. When I met this incredible woman standing here beside me, it was only a matter of seconds before I knew she was going to be the very best thing that ever came into my life. I knew that loving her was going to be the easiest, the most rewarding, and the most transformative experience I'd ever live, and I wasn't wrong."

Kate looked out into the group, found Morgan who appeared on the verge of popping and her mother who had glistening tears in her eyes, and her jaw clenched as her fingers, woven with Rick's, unknowingly squeezed his like a vise.

Rick raised the bottle of Dom into the air, and everyone with their glasses did the same. "So, here with our families and closest friends, Kate and I want to first toast to many years of happiness in our new home." He drank a sip, passed the bottle to her. "And second, we want to share with you that a couple of weeks ago, she and I-"

All of a sudden, Martha came fluttering back into the room, noticed everyone sipping in unison. "Oh, for heaven's sake, I've missed the wedding announcement?" she grouched, cutting him off. "Honestly, Richard, I was in the little girls' room for two minutes. You couldn't have waited for me?"

His shoulders slumped.

"Thank you, Mother," he replied defeated. "As always, your timing is impeccable."

Morgan threw a hand up to the sky and cheered like she'd been relieved of a thousand-pound weight. "Hallelujah! I don't have to keep the secret anymore!" It'd been one day. And she hadn't kept it.

Kate, still holding the bottle of champagne, swallowed a couple more healthy gulps.

"That's wonderful news, Katie, congrats," her father said, his reaction, Rick noticed, oddly muted.

Then Lanie chimed in, and only managed to compound his confusion.

"Yeah, we're so happy for you guys. I'll definitely drink to that."

Kate could only shake her head. They hadn't even tried.

Martha pushed her way from the back of the room to the front, flicked Rick on the arm before giving his bride a hug and moving along.

"Well, I guess it's foolish me, isn't it, Counselor? I assumed you'd be too busy to find the time to blab about being the new wife of the great Richard Castle. I guess I assumed wrong, since everyone in this room already seems to know all about our Nevadan nuptials."

Kate pivoted slowly toward him, folded her arms across her chest. "And I guess Gus is going to have to build a pretty big dog house out back, after all. Woof, woof."

"Yeah, well… touché." He snatched the bottle from her hand and set it on the coffee table, curled an arm around her waist. "I couldn't help it. And I'm not sorry. I've never been this happy. Really, if you think about it, I should get points for only telling one person. Apparently, you took out an ad in the newspaper."

"I had to. _Someone_ already had his face plastered all over all the billboards," she wisecracked and they shared a laugh. "Hillary's going to be devastated, you know. I'm sure her dream has been crushed."

Rick's tone took a tender shift. "You're my only dream. Being here with you is my only dream."

"So, you two lovebirds…" Jim dropped a hand onto the shoulder of each. "When can Johanna and I expect our first grandchild?"

Kate rolled her eyes.

"Seriously, Dad?"

"Now that is an excellent question, Jim." Rick's lips curved. "I'm ready to kick off negotiations on that anytime. What do you say, Counselor, your conference table or mine?"

**XX**


End file.
